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Set your story in a world where the currency isn’t money — or at least not money as we understand it.

Posted in Fantasy on Aug 12, 2022

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✍️ 62 stories

Memory and a McDouble

Submitted to Contest #159

What did I do for dinner last Wednesday? It’s remarkable how hard it can be to think back after only five days. I remember Thursday’s dinner, a lackluster meatloaf smothered in ketchup, something totally forgettable aside from its brash mediocrity, but that isn’t past the look-back threshold. The memory has to be five days old to buy this combo McDouble meal, and why not trade the memory of one forgettable dinner for another? Now just to remember.  I had already ordered the meal at the kiosk, and now I’m standing here with the neurolin...

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Human Currency

Submitted to Contest #159

Sam the Sham Smith awoke between two dumpsters, the chill of the night invigorated him into a sitting position. His belly churned with toxic waste, his head swam with razor-finned sharks, his mouth tasted like shit as usual. He didn’t know what shit actually tasted like but had a pretty good idea. Many things he had tasted from the dumpsters of Fat Man Alley he imagined tasted like the brown goo from a dog’s butt. The alley was affectionately named for the row of restaurants on the street it catered to. High-uppity-cla...

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Osteal Lucre

Submitted to Contest #159

Compulsively, Alaric kept turning to verify that he wasn’t being followed. Bringing a plow-horse and cart to his hoard was dangerous, but he didn’t have a choice. He was low on time and energy. Yet, owning the lands where such an extraordinary treasure was located wouldn’t protect him. Last winter, he’d lost a frantic race with poachers to cull and claim deer and other transient prey animals; the poachers had stripped his land bare, casually abandoning deboned carcasses in utter disregard of the meat that could have fed his family. A mere fa...

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Loveless

Submitted to Contest #159

I'm almost out of love. I can feel it, feel the pinpoints of searing heartache that prod my beating heart every waking moment. My whole life I'd been wealthy with admiration. My mother, my father, and my sister who had loved me so. Our affection fed each other so that we could live happy lives. My father used my mother's undying fondness to keep a roof over our heads, keep our stomachs filled, and give my sister, Tilly, and I whatever our childish minds desired. He used his children's love to fuel their college funds, which is how Tilly an...

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Empty Headed

Submitted to Contest #159

I have approximately one real memory left of my mother. And today was the day I was going to lose it and forget her, presumably, forever. According to the sticky notes and clipboards and torn off pieces of newspaper written over with permanent marker, my mother was a really good person. One bright orange sticky note claimed that she was a field nurse; providing aid to those on the front lines of The Recollection Wars. In my own tiny scrawled handwriting, it proclaimed that she did this for over twenty years, far beyond the terms of...

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Dirt Cheap

Submitted to Contest #159

Trigger Warning: Discussions of death in a way that might be considered offensive.A large gavel vibrated the tall desk in front of me, and a voice boomed, “Payment accepted.”A glimmering blue transparent being whose shape resembled that of a tall cloaked nun titled its head downward in a bow before turning to the left and disappearing into the boundless darkness around me. If I were not entirely terrified, I might actually have attempted to make logical sense of the physics of wherever I was. Technically, I was standing upright, but beneath ...

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Singing Sands

Submitted to Contest #159

Homicides and accidental deaths always increase in our city this time of year, as you would expect. We’re ten days away from voting on who has earned the most Fame over the last year, a universal vote that results in a highly exciting reshuffling of goods, housing, and families. It’s at this time those lowest in last year’s votes and those eager to flare in the memories of their neighbors are desperate for votes to improve their Status and earn them Fame. Recklessness begets murder, and accidents are the consequence of the desire to impress ...

12 likes 4 comments 4
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Barter In The Forests

Submitted to Contest #159

While walking in the Amazon Rainforest, a biodiverse landscape with intact forests, clean water, and air, whose ebbing qualities of a healthy world are vital for our economies. I was intrigued that plants and animals barter in symbiotic relationships. Symbiotic relationships are helpful measures of an ecosystem's health. For example, large tracts of coral reefs are severely damaged or dead because of recent increases in ocean temperature due to climate change. The temperature increase induces coral to expel the algae that live within them. W...

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BLOOD PAYMENTS

Submitted to Contest #159

Flaxius rubbed the thin wisps of graying red hair that barely passed for a beard in long and thoughtful strokes. It was Tax Day, and it was his sworn duty to collect from the townsfolk of New Delirya–no exceptions and no extensions. Rules are rules, after all, and it’s the rules that keep everything running smoothly. Sure, tax collectors were a hated lot amongst the townsfolk, but that didn’t bother Flaxius even one smidge—why should it? They can hate him all they like, but it’s what kept his belly from starving and being able to live somewh...

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A New Chapter

Submitted to Contest #159

The elf, a Lord of the Rings Elrond look-alike, hands over a cup filled with a rose-shaded berry beverage. It’s the closest thing to a fruit smoothie I’ve seen since arriving in the Fae Realm from the Human Realm about two months ago. I take a sip of the sweet beverage and show my id card. I can tap my id card on a scanner and gain entrance to my home, place of work, or make a payment in restaurants and stores. “That’ll be one hundred grams of sand,” the elf merchant says. “One hundred what?” I hold up my id card and inwardly growl. Patri...

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How Many Choices does a Can of Chicken Noodle Soup Cost?

Submitted to Contest #159

I stared at the blazon red of the Campbell’s label and tried to ignore the rumble in my stomach. If I bought the soup, it would have been worth the right to choose to linger a little longer and steal a few moments with my grandmother after my cousins left the potluck on Saturday. Sadly, inflation had made the act of grocery shopping a joke. Evan didn’t want to come with me, saying he spent too many Choices the night before with his work buddies. Then he promised to pay me back.      I caught a glimpse of a chip in...

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Small Flames

Submitted to Contest #159

Sunlight streams through the church's lattice work windows, pale and dull. Alys sells the last of the blackberry jam and slips the six spinel fires it was bought with into the nearly full bag at her hip, its pink surfaces half-burning to the touch. Newly crystallized then. She glances at the back of the woman who'd given it to her. A girl really, wrapped in bright purple linen and walking alone with hunched shoulders. Alys breathes harshly through her nose as she turns away.  "Do you have to go back?" Reben asks as he hugs her, pr...

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The Gatekeeper

Submitted to Contest #159

Ivan, the gatekeeper, summoned the young lad, Leonid Portnoy. Having just turned 21, Leonid was now considered an adult according to the village’s laws. The majestic sun hung over Ivan’s shoulder as he stood next to the gate. Gently rolling hills and pleasant valleys surrounded the obscure town. At an undisclosed location, it was the only city in the world where people didn’t have to work if they didn’t want to, and everything was provided to its residents for free.Hidden City would remain hidden as long as Ivan was its gatekeeper. For decad...

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Cha-ching

Submitted to Contest #159

You know how they say that one may loose their tongue? Well, it kinda is more scary than you think. You see, in my world, all of your verbs are very precious. I live in a world where there is money, but it really doesn’t count. What does count is how many verbs you can say, you understand, you know. I live in a city called Mouthful. Ironic! I know! The thing is, that the city’s name have changed few times, even in my life time and it’s because of the patriots. The birthgivers who want their offspring to know where they come from. Forgi...

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Pondscum

Submitted to Contest #159

I knew his type. The type of lily-livered trickster who could trap someone with his tongue from a mile away. The type of slimeball whose oily charm served as lubricant to get away with whatever he pleased. The type of pondscum whose eyes were as dark and inscrutable as the bottom of a bog, opaque enough to hide behind. He was smartly dressed in a crisp brown suit, but I knew better than to be fooled by clean attire. His slick skin shone under the fluorescent lights as he smarmed his way up to the counter, and I made a mental note to mop...

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