Image Curve Blog
The Boy Who Cried Bacon
Short Story About Depression Rachel Steep, currently seated in a hunter’s green armchair across a mahogany table from her student, normally stands a full foot taller than the neurochem-wunderkind Irwin Twimble; granted this doesn’t...
And we march on
Chapter one The day was dark and dreary. The field today felt gray as the sound of boots stomping hard into mud filled the surrounding silence. The rain filled every crevice in our clothes,...
A Man of Some Renown
The Order of Prince Yaroslav the Wise, fifth class, is the highest rank a Ukrainian foreign national can achieve. Its newest inductee is back home in Florida and has been in the shower so...
Holy Men in Unholy Times
Apocalyptic Short Story My breathing became labored as chilled air pulled through the damp cloth covering my face. It was a formality, as most doctors knew; a small comfort for the dying. Those entering...
Forest Creatures: Ember – Part Three
Short Story For a small pocket of time the humans were happy in the forest. Their laughter was louder than the whispering birds. I gave them their privacy, lighting myself on fire when another...
The Woes of the Zombie Man – Chapter VI
Short Story In which Boris begs the Butcher The Butcher smiled. Within the dank recess of his meat emporium’s killing room, pacing on a blood-stained and soon to be blood-soaked floor, he cradled a...
To Your Health
Fourteen years of marriage was all Rachel Ellis could endure. It was time to cut the cord; to say goodbye. It wasn’t just her husband’s arrogance or competitive nature. Everything about Michael sickened her,...
The Creaking Door
The din wasn’t particularly loud, but it was enough to jolt Patricia Mercer out of her sleep. After her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she caught her breath, she sat up and gave...
Birth of a Robot
I was finished being builded the first of December, 3035. That’s when my AI was first activated. My movement at the time was minimal, so I could only see what was directly in front of me. The factory floor was sterile, bright, and chrome. Robotic arms whizzed all over the floor, quickly building cheaper models to be sent to whatever mercenary company or factory floor that needed the expendable labor. I looked down to see two people in lab coats…
