One hundred years in the future a time machine is built. Scientists send the machine back to get Native Americans, cowboys and dragons.

The President’s last personal, best fighter is promoted to General.

From Guest Contributor Bayley Kelly

Grace paced the kitchen while her six-year-old daughter, Sophia, watched curiously. Sophia had bright blue eyes like her father. When would the war end? Grace thought. It had been two months and she hadn’t heard a word from Charles. All she could do to occupy her time was read and take care of Sophia.

Grace collapsed to her knees and wept.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

There hangs the sword, the one handed down from father, to son, to me, the symbol of my family, the defender of our home, the weapon that has slain hundreds, that fought for our homeland in the long war, and struck fear into our enemies, the blade that was retired but never allowed to dull, that was laid to rest but never sheathed, that was put on display as a reminder to all future interlopers this house will forever be vigilant, there is the sword even now, still hanging there, as I slowly bleed out on the floor below it.

At dawn I am brought forth into this world, howling, crying. Mama, a girl hardly thirteen, swaddling my small frail body in a torn shawl. Oblivious that I am a load, or so I think.

By dusk I am an old man walking out of this world, soon. Mama, so long a spirit by now. Papa, a boy hardly an adult.

From Guest Contributor Troy Onyango

She kept the Nevers in a shoebox. Most came from her mother, from childhood, but even now, she could sense her mother preparing more for Christmas. Her step-father gave her a few in the early years, but they faded to nothing as their relationship thickened to indifference.

She often wondered why he’d left her only one.

From Guest Contributor EM Eastick

One came at him from behind, another from the side. The assault started only minutes ago yet to him it felt longer.

He leaped into a pile of paper, shaped sheets into airplanes. Aimed at his son.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.

The First Alien Invasion, also known as The Real War of The Worlds (2029 – 2040) was a conflict of extrasolar[citation needed] aliens with Earth governments and international organizations – US, China, Russia, and NATO[1][2]. The immediate cause was an invasion of aliens to Mars. The aliens built a few structures on the surface and remained silent during attempts to communicate via Mars rovers’ signals, satellites, radio, and laser transmissions. The US and China’s ballistic missiles sent to Mars were destroyed on approach [8]:415. The subsequent attack by the United Earth fleet found Mars abandoned, structures spelling “Welcome to Mars.”

From Guest Contributor Vicki Doronina

Joseph lived in the trenches. The others came and went, firing weapons at the enemy location before marching elsewhere. Joseph always stayed.

Joseph had a reasonably comfortable spot. He mostly just lay in the soft mud. It no longer mattered if he was face down in the pool of water at their feet. Breathing was no longer necessary.

Baldwin kept careful track of his place in line. It was important that he always know exactly where along the front he was in relation to the enemy. At this moment, he was 240th back. That didn’t mean he was going to be the 240th soldier to die. Death was random in war. He’d kept track of enough battles to know that sometimes the 240th person would be shot in the head, and sometimes he’d be injured by shrapnel, and sometimes he’d remain unscathed. There was no pattern, but it still helped him feel in control to do the counting.

The Coffee Wars began in the 21st century, but unlike the other Great Wars, which ended via the exchange of cash settlements or mineral rights, the Coffee Wars dragged on.

It was Grimes’ silent presence that allowed Starbucks, his chief adversary, to eventually quell the resistance. Grimes glumly watched, unable to act, or even speak, through the caffeine-induced shaking.