David Brown

“Singularities” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #101

Ever since Karl Nygaard graduated from Aalborg University in Denmark at the age of eighteen with doctorates in Astrophysics and Quantum Mechanics, he was known as an extraordinary man. When he moved to Cambridge to attend MIT and complete three more PhDs in Mechanical Engineering, Electrical Engineering, and Artificial Intelligence (AI), it became clear he was a genius among geniuses. However, it was when, at the young age of twenty-two, he financed, designed, and built his one-man interstellar research rocket, that he became known as “

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“Cackleberries, Hot Rocks, and Texas Butter” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #100

Brody took a mouthful of hot and gritty, campfire coffee from a tin cup. Choking, he swallowed down the bitter liquid portion, wiped his black horseshoe moustache on his sleeve, and spit coffee grounds onto the dusty earth. “Cripes sake, Skinner! Why the hell we should keep ya on the payroll is beyond me! Yer brown gargle is the worst!”“Maybe because the little weasel makes the best damn cackleberries, hot rocks, and Texas butter?” Tripp defended his fellow outlaw while scarfing down a plateful of the bean master’s signa...

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“Interminable Illness” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #99

“Good morning, Mama. How are you feeling today?” I asked, expecting the same answer as every other time over the last several months that I’ve visited her at the Flats, a superlative dementia-friendly residence just outside of Bristol.“Mama? Young man, just because I am old, doesn’t mean that I’m somebody’s mother…or grandmother. You know…I do have a name,” she said, bothered.“Exactly the same reaction as yesterday…and the day before,” I sighed to myself.“What was that, fata? Speak up....

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“The Prodigal Expat” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #98

Two hundred years ago, as Earthmen were first attempting to colonize the Red Planet, the Empyreans chose to reveal themselves. From the first expedition log of Lieutenant Barbara Brooks, the sole crash survivor, it was evident she encountered two of these “alien angels” and helped them to survive prior to her disappearance. The second and third expeditions established a foothold on the fourth planet, but when the fourth expedition force arrived, it was met by a contingent of the flying aliens; apparently they already had a flourishin...

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“Man on the Moon” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #97

“I could put my thumb up to a window and completely hide the Earth. I thought, everything I’ve ever known is behind my thumb.”Jim Lovell, Apollo 8, 1968Jimmy Nixon looked out the viewing portal of his private quarters at Waypoint Tranquility on Luna. The rising Earth was a waxing crescent on the moon’s midnight horizon. He remembered an old quote by one of the Apollo astronauts, and like that captivated spaceman of old...

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“Sojourners” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #96

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”Hebrews 13:2It had been exactly one year, and if her mission had gone perfectly to plan, Lieutenant Barbara Brooks would be arriving with Captain Noah Wilder at Waypoint Tranquility on Luna. Instead, she was stranded on Mars with no companions, no comestibles, and no confidence for her salvation.The plan had been to traverse the distance bet...

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“Right or Left, Up or Down” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #95

Astrid inspected the two massive wooden doors for any hidden triggers or booby traps while considering which one to open. Both barriers were wrapped in studded bands of iron, and both were securely locked. Her two companions sat on an outcropping of rock impatiently awaiting her decision. One was an iron-helmed warrior wearing battered, rusty, splint-mail armor and sharpening his two-handed bastard sword with a well-oiled whetstone; a nasty gash on the side of his face, recently delivered by a goblin’s crooked spear, still oozed blood. Th...

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“Boiling Point” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #94

A Roman foot soldier stood watch outside a prison cell holding but a single occupant. The polished steel armor plates of his cuirass were draped snuggly over a burgundy tunic to protect his chest and back, while his helmet and scutum, a rectangular semi-cylindrical shield, were hanging on a nearby wall. Attached to his belt were his standard-issue gladius, or double-edged short sword, and a set of jailor’s keys. The lone prisoner sat chained to the wall by a set of wrist manacles in the far corner of his cell. Hitherto, the accused hadn’t...

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“County Fair Lost” by David Brown

Warning: an adult themed thriller Even amid the multitudes of flashing filaments and the repetitive rhythms of circus music it was the assorted aromas that really vexed me. Buttered popcorn, roasted peanuts, steamed chilidogs smothered in heady onions, and the sickly synthetic scent of cotton candy all blended to surround me in a cruelly oppressive atmosphere. I hate almost all carnivals and festivals, but I have always and utterly loathed our county fair.There’s no doubt that my antipathy of f...

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“Prescient Patient” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #92

For the tenth night in a row, I only managed to sleep for about an hour before perspiration and panic pulled me from the persistent dream tumult. As I gasped for breath, a lurid bolt of lightning immediately accompanied by a strident thunderclap shook my bedposts and divided the midnight for but a second before plunging my sparse bedroom back into utter blackness. I threw aside my dampened sheet into the oppressive shadows and cowered in the fetal position until my body stopped trembling.The storm outside began to subsid...

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“Causality of Lies” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #88

Arthur David Verity clicked the submit button on his electronic unemployment form for the week. Although it was technically true that he’d looked for work, he hadn’t really put his heart into it. He’d now been jobless for three straight months with no prospects in sight, so he did the next best thing: he plopped down on a soiled couch in his tiny unkempt apartment and flipped on the television. He resolved to spend his entire Friday afternoon glued to the boob-tube.As usual, the news network was the last thing he’d watch...

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“The Impractical Prankster” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #87

Warning: an adult themed fairy tale As he stepped out of the Fey Woods and into the realms of men, Vexx examined the sword that the Pixie Council had presented to him by taking a few practice swings. In reality, the weapon was smaller than a human steak knife, but to Vexx, who stood a diminutive fourteen inches tall, it was a hefty longsword. The sun’s morning rays pierced the towering trees behind him, refracting through his gossamer wings to form a shimmering rainbow and making his shadow stretch out before hi...

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“Fleur-de-lis and a Rose” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #86

I quietly stepped into the Paladin’s private chapel carrying the flowers he’d requested. Inside the florist’s box were eight white lilies and a single pale rose. He’d stowed his shining plate mail armor and helm on the stout display stand in the corner, and he’d placed his great truncheon of a holy mace upon a small communion table dressed with a white linen altar cloth. A skylight above the table was surrounded by blue, white, and red LEDs whose light merged with the sun’s evening rays, scintillating across his steel mace, and blending i...

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“Alamo Again” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #85

In the early nineteenth century, a group of less than two hundred volunteers, led by Colonel William Travis, Davy Crockett, and James Bowie, occupied and defended the Alamo for nearly two weeks against an army of Mexican soldiers over ten times their number led by General Antonio López de Santa Anna. These brave Texan patriots died on March 6, 1836. It was a very wise Mark Twain, born just three months prior to the historic conflict, who would later quip, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.” Several centuries later, the hym...

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“Möbius Man” by David Brown

Submitted to Contest #84

Trigger warning: suicide The guardsman’s tall, jet black, bearskin hat bristled in the moist London air as he marched out to the rod iron gates of Buckingham Palace to address the situation. His face was almost as red as his dress uniform and his voice was as stern as his old headmaster. “Get back! Do not climb on the fence!”The school kids backed away, giggling and taking selfies or social media videos. He stomped his f...

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