Harper Kingsley

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.

Title: Scumbag Billionaire

Author: Harper Kingsley

Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

Ames gathered dry sticks and a mass of brown twigs (?) that he assumed was some kind of moss. At the same time, he also plucked some broad long leaves that he wove together into a pseudo-hat. It wasn’t very pretty, but it was good enough to block the sun.

With his hat on his head, he used the dry moss to make a nest with some small sticks waiting on the side. Then he used some sticks to make a teepee shape over the tinder nest. He was trying to remember everything he had ever seen or read about starting a fire without a lighter.

If he had some string, he would make a bow. Since he didn’t have any, he would have to spin the drill by hand. He wasn’t sure he could spin it fast enough to get a flame, but he had to try.

Water, food, fire, shelter–the basics for survival.

Ames used a rock to scrape the pice of wood he’d chosen to be a fireboard. The wood was about 13 inches long and three inches wide. He struggled to make a small hole in it with the rock and cursed when he hurt his fingers.

By the time he was done, it wasn’t pretty but it was a start. Next he used his rock to strip and sharpen the tips of the sticks he’d chosen to be drill.s. He figured he’d make more than one as he wasn’t completely sure of the strength of the wood.

He rested for a few minutes, knowing he was going to need a burst of strength for the next step. Then he drew in a deep breath, used his foot to hold the fireboard in place, and began … Read the rest “NOVEL: Scumbag Billionaire 007”

I make wishes on the stars all the time. It doesn't seem like a waste to me. Because in the forming of a wish--an idea--a concept of what can be is created. And until a wish is formulated, it's nothing but stardust and fantasy.