
@Daily Science Fiction: "Don Sebastian's Treasure" by Colin Harvey.
Rob wondered why her sullen monotone had suddenly erupted into vehemence. "This area is for Transport Museum staff only." She motioned him away from the workshop full of agricultural machinery, a lorry chassis, half-complete cars, even a ship's propeller. A mechanic looked up from the engine he was working on. She pointed to a sign saying "No visitors beyond this point" in English, Spanish, and local dialect.Serial Fiction
@Kat and Mouse: "Into The Woods - Part Fourteen" by Abner Senires.
The Bison and the other Humvee had pulled to the right-hand shoulder just past the turnoff. I slid in behind them, cut the engine, then turned in my seat to look at Kyle.@Ray Gun Revival: "Thieves’ Honor Episode 17: Trial by Fire - Part 1" by Keanan Brand.
“An IntuiCom implant is a biomechanical device that wraps around the brain stem or spinal column. Almost impossible to remove. But we’ve learned how to shut them down without killing the host. Most of the time. Any pen light marked with the Quantum Industries eye is a scanner for implants.”Audio
@Drabblecast: "A Fairy Tale of Oakland" by Tim Pratt.
In some parts of the world — Austria, Croatia, Hungary — they still remember. They understand. You can’t have something bright without having something dark to balance it. If you’ve got St. Nicholas, you also need the Krampus…@Escape Pod: "Bad Dogs Escape" by James Patrick Kelly.
MEL: We tried. We tried very hard. It wasn’t as if we couldn’t see what was coming. The droughts, tornados, the economy going south. But it didn’t happen all at once. Then the Raccoon flu, the antibiotics were useless. The wheat crop failed two years in a row. Then came riots, cities on fire, madness. When we lost control we gathered the best — scientists, economists, engineers, architects into the CPF@Pseudopod: "Black Hill" by Orrin Grey, read by Rich Girardi.
There was a sound come up from the hole, like a gasp. The men figured we’d hit a pocket of gas and everyone backed off in case it was like to burn. Then the derrick shook all the way up and the ground seemed to slide a little under our feet. There come a noise from the hole like I ain’t never heard the ground make in all my years. When I was a boy, my pa’d known a man who worked a whaling ship and he said that whales sang to one another. He’d put his hands together over his mouth and blown a call that he said was as close as he could do to what they sounded like. This sounded like that call.@The Classic Tales Podcast: "The Man Who Lived Backwards" by Charles F. Hall, read by B.J. Harrison.
Where can you find a world where raindrops cut through you like bullets, and sandwiches are as hard as concrete? Why, in the past of course.

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