Brevity is the width of soul.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Long Shot

Teleportation never went beyond a few grams and a few thousand miles. Not enough for any industrial application. Perfect to put a small explosive bullet inside someone's brain. It was a nightmare for the Secret Service. The future would never see a President in public again.

Secret Service agents are highly trained specialists. It wasn't their fault that they didn't understand the subtleties of the relativistic limit of quantum entanglement. Not many physicists understood it, either.

One did. MIT graduate, born in Havana. He had never forgiven John Kennedy for the second, and finally successful, invasion of Cuba, and dying in bed with Marylin Monroe had been too good a death for him.


Thursday, August 27, 2009

After Erwin almost saved the world

"I'm probably harmless," meowed Schrodinger's malevolent cat. Without asking herself why Erwin had boxed him with a bunch of radium, naive, cat-loving Pandora believed him.

He had been the only field fluctuation in an otherwise best of possible worlds. With him out of the box, everything became true again at the same time. He closed his least-evil eye and picked up a more interesting world for the wave to collapse to.


Wednesday, August 26, 2009


"I lost years of my life on this," said the man. I smiled.

"So sue me," I said. At most he would get some money, a tiny part of what I had gotten from him. And the proceedings themselves would take years, certainly...

I blinked, suddenly aware of having been daydreaming. Nothing around me seemed familiar, and neither, oh god, did my now wrinkled hand.


Tuesday, August 25, 2009

In the Shell

Vampires didn't care, as it's not uncommon to live at night. Neither did werewolves, already used to their monthly getaway.

But for ghosts the Internet was an undreamed-of gift, an electronic path to mankind different from dreams and the outdated seance. On the Internet, nobody knows how solid are the fingers composing words.

And it turns out you can haunt people, too, drive them to madness or at least despair. Although most ghosts are unhappy about being called 'trolls.'