Sci-fi Post Apocalyptic Novels & Stories

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

Five years after migrating abroad, my husband, Shawn Johnson, brings his true love and her son home. "Jill and Neil are new here. They'll be staying with us for a few days." He and I get into a huge fight over this. On my birthday, Shawn hands me a divorce agreement. He says, "Hurry up and sign it. Jill needs this country's citizenship, so let's divorce for show first." I frown, wanting to ask for more details. However, he points at me and calls me heartless. Shortly after, I see Jill's social media update. "Shawnie divorced his wife for me and Neil! We finally have a roof over our heads." I like the post and sign the divorce agreement. Then, I submit an application to my company to be transferred home.

A post accusing me of feeding my employees free lunches worse than pig feed goes viral online. However, none of them know that the daily free lunches are all catered from a five-star hotel at 100 dollars per head. The entire internet goes crazy, calling me names and accusing me of being an evil boss. Even my co-founder, Dustin Jager, texts me and says, "Maybe we should go with what the employees want and change it to a meal allowance plan instead." I harden my heart and send out a company-wide announcement. "In response to everyone's pursuit of healthy eating and the right to choose their own lunches, the company has decided to discontinue the free lunch program. "A meal reimbursement plan will be introduced instead, effective immediately, with a daily limit of 20 dollars per person per day. All reimbursements will be calculated at the end of the month with the presentation of valid receipts." As soon as the announcement is made, the company's chat groups immediately go berserk.

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.

On the day I get back together with Leo Laycond, he uploads a photo of us on his social media account. I stare at the post for three long minutes until I notice a silver lock icon on the bottom right corner. It turns out that Leo has blocked Lisa Laycand, his younger adopted sister. That sister of his is always the person he cares about the most. I tell Leo calmly, "If you yearn for Lisa even more, I can always cancel the mating ceremony." Leo panics immediately. He deletes the restriction in front of the entire pack so that they can witness our reunion. Half an hour later, Lisa rushes into the training grounds in nothing but a thin dress. Then, she "collapses" in front of Leo. I watch as Leo scoops Lisa into his arms. It's an action that's very familiar to him, as though he's done it hundreds of times. Suddenly, I realize that the engagement with Leo bores me to no end.

I double over in pain after assisting Adrian Randall with a late-night operation. He immediately carries me to a ward to check on me. However, before he can do that, he receives a call from a patient and hurries off. That night, I miscarry. When I come out of the operating theater, I see his childhood friend's social media update. She's shared a photo of her baby bump. "He hurried to come to my side just because I was lost. You have to treat Adrian well in the future, my darling!" I rub my belly, which throbs with a dull ache. I don't cry and demand an explanation from Adrian as I would have in the past. Instead, I like the post and apply for a position on the Borderless Medical Assistance Program. The day I leave, the high and mighty Dr. Randall looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. He asks, "How can you bear to leave me behind?"

Just because I post one picture with my younger brother, Lucas Gambino, his girlfriend Betty Gotti decides I'm the other woman. She rolls up to my place with her crew, live‑streaming the whole thing while they tear it apart. "Look at this puttana trying to steal my man!" Betty shouts to the camera. "She's got the face to flirt, but not the spine to admit it! Give me ideas, chat—I'll teach her some respect." Those psychos destroyed everything. My jewelry, my designer clothes, my bags… they didn't spare a thing. Not even the ring my parents left me. Then, with the viewers egging her on, Betty crossed the line. She had her girls strip me bare on stream. Her chat was going wild, donations pouring in—until my brother saw it. When Lucas kicked in the door to pull me out, I looked at him through eyes that burned. "Dump the girlfriend," I told him. "Or you can forget about ever being the Don."

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

Love is a Lie. As a photographer for the New York Post, Kari Martin was used to seeing heartache and scandal up close. But one night at the club… her whole world changed. Heartbroken and willing to call off her wedding, she decides a change is in order and moves from NYC to a small town in Maine, where the average age of the residents there is sixty (or thereabouts). She works to fit in perfectly, and tries like hell not to let anyone find out just how very jaded she’s recently become over the lie called love. Jake Isaac left Texas quite a few years ago; his heart torn from his chest, and his mind set on being a bachelor forever. Maine would welcome him, give him land to explore and a community to belong to. Getting a job as the coach of the local junior high and serving on the fire department kept him busy — and labeled him a hometown hero — but the truth of his damaged heart was forever hidden. No one would ever know just how jaded he was about love. That is… until he meets Kari.

After my son finished his final exams, I ordered him a limited-edition supercar as a gift. But not long afterward, I came across a video of him riding an electric scooter and delivering takeout orders. I was deeply moved. I thought he was trying to learn how difficult life could be. Just as I was about to tell him not to overwork himself, I stumbled upon a post from a struggling student my wife was sponsoring. "Thank you for the gift. I'll work even harder from now on." Cyrus Young looked nothing like his usual modest self. He was dressed in a custom-tailored suit, wearing handmade leather shoes and a luxury dive watch as he posed beside my wife for a photo. And parked behind them was the limited-edition supercar I had carefully picked out for my son. A surge of anger rose in my chest. Unable to hold it back any longer, I called my wife. "Olivia Quinn, if this is the best you can do as my wife, then we're done. I'll find someone better."