Welcome to the new SoTA Writing Round Table!
You are a full member of this new venture. No titles, no hierarchy here!
- post your works in progress here for constructive feedback from other authors and SotA backers
- offer constructive feedback on anyone else's posted work
Explore the categories in the left hand panel, post or review stories, plays, poems, etc. We welcome all suggestions, including suggestions about the site.
We are happy you are here!
- Vyrin & Womby
This is a short story I wrote for Star Citizen. It is set in space.
"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with S."
I guess it made a change from, "Are we there yet?"
"Um, Space?" I knew it wouldn't be that painless, but I had to try.
"Nope." I could see a smug expression forming on her face. There are no words to describe how much I hated my job at that moment, but I needed the credits, and ferrying this particular person paid well.
"Star?" I wasn't even trying, really. I just hoped that if I engaged her in conversation she would stop randomly pressing buttons and trying to open doors.
"You're mentally retarded, aren't you? Try again."
"Seat?" I started imagining myself in my happy place.
"No. Your mother dropped you on your head, didn't she? Have another try."
I took a deep breath. It would soon be over. Only a few more minutes.
"Salvation!" I wasn't trying to answer her question. Just then the identification tag for my rendezvous had flashed up on the display.
"That's not even an object, stupid! And now you've made me give away the answer. It's stupid, which is what I see every time I look at your ugly face."
I wasn't listening. At that moment I was carefully docking with the Banu Merchantman, and arranging the sale.
Her husband had paid me a lot of money to get rid of her, and now the Banu were about to pay me an equal amount to take her off my hands.
"Oh," I said, "I could have sworn the answer was slave."