Bourgeois Blues
By Andrea Castillo
Is it just me, or has the dystopia felt like a bit of a letdown so far? We’ve been promised nuclear winters and bossy robotic takeovers for some time now. Sleek, fascist stimuli. Who could have anticipated that humanity doesn’t scale?
The Sacred Whore
By Rachel Haywire
The year was 2065. The Sex Workers Collective of America ran the nation. We weren’t allowed to talk to anyone without charging them first. If someone were to compliment us, we had to show them the bill. Allowing someone to be nice to us without asking for payment was a capital offense.
Lyfe
By Ann Sterzinger
In the City of Heaven it was illegal to park on the street’s surface. The City was a moon of Earth Two, and it was too small to waste space on wide roads with side parking. Miranda was only three-eighths Immortal by birth, though her marriage to a full God seemed to have agreed with her.
John Walks Into a Bar
By Ben Arzate
John leaves the private viewing booth that he lives in. He has to walk four miles to leave the booth area and enter the magazine section. He walks past aisles dedicated to amputees in diapers, vintage kiddy porn, car crashes, and horses in Nazi uniforms.
God Burns
By Natasha Maria Phoenix
The march of soldiers and the sadistic joy of inflicting pain on prisoners; the red flood of genocides, the agonizing starvation of a dying child, the disease that spread through lesser nations; I was both the epidemic and the flesh, both the sadist and the victim.
Last Man: The Upgrading
By James LaFond
When mandatory smartphone upgrades came through, Dwayne had dropped off the grid. When the National Chipping Initiative and the Federal Ban on Homelessness came through, Dwayne had gone feral.
Anti-Fragile
By Nick Mamatas
These thoughts are my own, but their origin is not of this body, or to be more precise not wholly of this body; there are other bodies out there in the ætheric Wi-Fi, bodies in states very similar to my own, experiencing side effects identical to my own, and among those bodies are people very much like myself.
Chthonic Escape
By Eian Orange
The door to the bar entrance opened up into a luxurious cannibal suite. These elite cannibals feasted upon the recently deceased as though they were caviar. They had live prize specimens reserved for special display cages, as props if you will.
The Pathos of Proximity
By Mark Dyal
I am still governable: a mild-mannered citizen incapable of surviving without capitalist consumption; after all the books, workouts, and range time; cleared of State sovereignty and freed of any concern for what the masses of people in this country do or think.
Over the Borderline
By Roxxi Wallace
Borderline Personality Disorder had become the norm. Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted had become the new Marilyn Monroe. School shooters were assigned to be our neighbors, just to keep us on our feet.
The Node
By Tito Perdue
Each story had a row of windows, all of them rendered opaque with soot or some other accumulation that effectively formed “mirrors,” as it were, reflecting what was left of the washed-out moon. The usher stood back, giving entrance to both the animal and man.
New Horizon
By Graham K. Glover
“You have always been a guy, and you have always had a penis. What that makes you is a freak! Horizon fixes that. When they ‘refactor’, they refactor like the government tells them to.”
Journey to the Light
By Jamie Mason
“A pill to make men moral.” He shook his head. “And if it works, then what does that make the men who administer the pill?” I had no answer.
OS Nulla
By Jeffrey Anderson
Farther back, above the rubble, she can make out the glow of other buildings like the one she is in, the lit squares of the infinite grid. Along the razor wire a small white shape is hanging; a sneaker, its mate lying farther back, out in the street.
Dystopia Now
By Paul Town
Society is like metal. The slower the metal is formed, the harder it is to break when strained. When shaped rapidly, the metal will be brittle and easy to shatter. It’s our job to form this dystopia as fast as humanly possible.