TITLE: A Snapshot In Time<br>
AUTHOR: Harper Kingsley<br>
GENRE: aftermath of a fall, introspection

When I first woke up, everything was in shades of black and white. Color was slow to seep back into the world, and it was like her hair was blond and her dress was pink. Then the hair and dresses of the other women popped into focus, while the sky above them still looked like an expanse of pure white. Not a single speck of blue in sight.

The bug resting against my face had looked massive as it made its approach. Landing ever so gently on the tip of my nose, where it for some reason decided to stay. I was just relieved it wasn’t running around all over on my face.

That’s the most hateful part of bugs. The suddenness of their appearance. The way they could be just there, purely noticeable. Then they can do whatever. Jump up. Fly. Skitter under the furniture. Disappear.

But I couldn’t move.

I lay there on the ground face up, body splayed out haphazardly. The shock didn’t give me the option to feel pain.

I was hoping someone was calling an ambulance. I definitely didn’t want them to flop me around and paralyze me or something.

But it was eerie to look up and see them standing over me as the green slipped back onto the grass. To notice the complete soullessness of their gazes as they looked down at me. As they spoke to each other over top of me and I didn’t see a single one showing concern.

I stared at them, these semi-familiar strangers. There was the sense that I knew them, but I could not identify the relationship at the moment.

A pain was building in my body, centered on … Read the rest “SHORT FIC: A Snapshot In Time”

Updates and changes to come.

TITLE: In a Paper World Full of Paper People<br>
AUTHOR: Harper Kingsley<br>
GENRE: science fiction, introspection

It was called "paper skin," though its real scientific name was something long and largely unpronounceable. Everyone knew what paper skin was though. The fear of it was an ever growing concern. A rising stress level that left parents weeping in the night as they feared they or their children would be infected.

It was highly communicable. Lingering on hard surfaces for four hours and in fabric for close to ten. And once it got inside the human body, its effects were swift and devastating.

Blood that refused to clot and skin layers that became thin and brittle to the point that simply touching anything with an edge could cause the skin to split open.

A person with paper skin could die from a paper cut. A simple touch could cause the inside to come outside as the person bled and bled.

It was horrifying to watch. But hard to look away. Because there was no cure, no vaccine, no treatment other than to never let the infected ever come to harm.

The victims of paper skin lived in bubbles or muffled themselves with layers of cloth. They kept bandages on them at all times and carried injectors full of drugs that were supposed to help their blood coagulate. But in the end, it was a paper towel to hold back a river. Even if it took years, no one survived paper skin.

They were separated. Segregated. Surrounded by people wearing hazardous material suits, because their blood always seemed to want out of their bodies, and their blood carried the infection that was taking their lives.

People feared having paper skin. Dreaded it and fought the inevitably of it, this human plague that was … Read the rest “SHORT FICTION: In a Paper World Full of Paper People”

Updates and changes to come.

Title: Scumbag Billionaire
Author: Harper Kingsley
Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

He’d been surrounded by the aspect of death for his entire life.

It was part of living in the modern world. To constantly be barraged with misery and death until the brain became inured to it. Violence and vulgarity became something the mind automatically glossed over.

Ames had been so totally engulfed in apathy towards death that his cancer diagnosis had shaken his foundation.

He completely fell apart.

He’d been inured to the concept of death.

He was terrified of dying.

It had taken all his strength to pretend to be all right with his death. He’d given smiles to his family and friends. He’d done everything he could to keep them from seeing his gibbering terror.

He’d dealt with the pain and the indignity himself far, far away. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him falling apart.

Even after the treatment had failed, he’d kept up the act that he was dying with grace.

His panic and despair were the only things he’d been able to keep for himself as sickness had taken away everything else. No one had thought to let him keep any privacy.

He’d maintained his facade of graceful acceptance right up until the very end. He hoped his loved ones would be able to go on with their lives. He didn’t want to be a negative burden that anyone had to bear.

He hoped that he was remembered fondly.

A bright flame burn out too quick, he thought. There were so many things he’d never gotten the chance to do. He’d gone straight from working hard every day to lying in his death bed. There had been no transition period. Simply the realization that all those chances were gone.

There were so many things … Read the rest “NOVEL: Scumbag Billionaire 009”

Updates and changes to come.

THROUGH HER WINDOW
by Harper Kingsley

He’d found her through the Internet in a remarkably easy way.

It was almost as though she wanted him to find her.

He didn’t mention the leaks in her security. Just quietly followed the gingerbread trail until here he was.

Standing outside her house.

Peeking in through her windows and seeing her there. In her house. Her safe place. Her home where she and her family lived.

He watched her for a long time. Standing there in the dark. Huddling in his jacket to deal with the night chill.

He saw all her secrets. The her she was when she was alone.

The strange, beautiful her. The awkward, disgusting, slovenly, vulgar, lovely her.

He watched her and there was no part of him that wanted to look away. Even though he felt guilty. Even though he knew that what he was doing was wrong.

Wrong on a fundamental level.

The level of "Thou shalt not secretly follow people home" badness.

He’d done things when he was younger. Things that had disturbed his mother enough that she’d enacted several awkwardly horrible "discussions" that basically amounted to "Don’t be a rapist."

It had upset him when he was younger. There were several instances where he had wanted to scream at her to "Stop! Stop! STOP!" But now… He kind of understood where she had been coming from.

The very thought of sexual assault disgusted him. He had NO interest in being That Guy. He’d always been careful in his everyday life to not share certain jokes and to not touch without permission. Even as a kid, he’d had a clear awareness of "Personal Bubble."

It was just that as a kid he’d been very obvious about what he was thinking about. It had set adults … Read the rest “SHORT FIC: Through Her Window disturbing, stalking”

Through a window darkly gazing
At a sight afraid to see
Breathing deep the salted water
Dreaming dreams, of you and me.