Slouching Towards Utopia Novels & Stories

" Seeing as you are making a joke I think you feel better I think I should take my leave ‘’. She responded and I immediately let out a fake cough pretending to be feeling pains in my chest . “I know it’s fake Ethan “ she replied smiling and I pouted my mouth childishly . “ please stay and please sing for me ‘’ I pleaded and she smiled . Do you feel lonely Are you cold Are you somewhere out there where you don’t want to be Is it too hard and you want to let go Does it feel it all feel bland and rocky Are you scared Do you want to leave it all and go away There’s a sun that shines brightly at ten It’ll brighten everything that’s dark A light at the end of the tunnel they say A sun that shines

Femur formed the fencing in front of the houses, rib bone curved over plants offering them fragile shade and shelter, the points of spears leaning up against the side of a house were tipped with carved points of bone, a door handle, a piece of jewellery… She blinked, and the bone disappeared from view. “Not real,” she whispered. “Not even in the dream. So what does that mean?” But she understood the message. This Utopia was built on the death of Havermouth’s population. Not just Havermouth’s population, she continued. All the world. This was the world if the Mer won the war. And, having been given this glimpse into it, was no longer sure if that was a bad thing.

A getaway from the pain inflicted to her. In throes of her sulking, a dark figure loomed over her, casting a shadow that she seek. The darkness Utopia welcomed.. But the powerful presence of the figure made her look up to it. To him. "Let's talk." let's talk. Those words echoed inside her mind, bringing back the anguish, the pain of not having the chance to voice out what she feel! Just because it wasn't within the norms. It wasn't the ideal. "Utoh."

I would increase them and we would rise in hundreds and thousands, It will be enough to bring down the utopia. "This was just the beginning, the war has not yet started, but it is martured and soon enough I will drive my warriors and conquer the remaining packs in utopia. It is just a matter of time" I thought to my self. "Just a matter of time……" a voice said out of the space. What ! I heard something out of nowhere in the area where I stand, it just had to repeat my voice again. Was I just daydreaming, or was my life about nightmares.?

There is no such thing as utopia--One person's paradise can easily be another person's hell. We created Crescent City to be a shining utopia for supernaturals, a place of peace and prosperity. But it was built on the labor of witches and only those in power lived in true peace. Poor wolves, hybrids, humans and witches were all second-class citizens to the werewolves in charge.

"The people are stopped. They’re living off the 'Interest' of our old fires instead of building new ones. If life becomes too 'Permitted,' we lose the very 'Friction' that the galaxy is paying for. We are effectively selling the soil we stand on." Sarah observed the streets of Accra. The struggle was gone. Automated systems handled the labor; the Gaia-Chord handled the emotional regulation. The "Individual Scream" was becoming a polite whisper. The world was drifting toward the same static "Harmony" that had fossilized the Architects. The "Permitted Era" was becoming too comfortable, and in comfort, there was a specialized kind of death.

No one knew what went down between them, but all I heard was that she shoved him right out the 15th-floor window. His body hit the ground, broken. During his final moments, he muttered something about parasitic charms and cursed Nicole. And Nicole really did end up cursed. She clawed up her own face until she didn't look human anymore. She was eventually locked up in a psych ward. But none of that concerned me now. I packed my things and prepared for grad school. I decided to focus on what mattered—building a future in the field I loved and pushing myself further. Up ahead, my clear, bright path was waiting for me.

" Dustin then smiled bitterly after he was done talking. "I just never thought that your 'reality' was even more harsh and ruthless than I thought." I looked at him and recalled the early days when we'd just started the business together. We shared a cheapest sandwich in the tiny rented apartment of ours, rejoicing so much after seeing the first line of code on the computer screen that we couldn't sleep all night. Back then, Dustin had said to me, "Rach, we must build the best company next time and make our employees the happiest engineers and developers in the industry!"

Better dead than that. Not so many years ago, this place was an unparalleled paradise, ruled by the wise but mysterious Council of Ten. They were assisted by a network of governors that presided over individual sectors. It was a lush, green land, with fountains on every block. The buildings stretched to the sky, and all work was done by machines. There were even machines that could make things out of what seemed to be thin air. Anything you wanted… anything your heart desired could simply be created. The labor-saving machines freed up the people for more rewarding pursuits. This was a utopia of culture, science, art, and all other forms of human creativity. Sickness was rare, poverty didn’t

Finding it impossible to speak another word, the rest of my blame backed up my throat. Julia’s caterwauling grew louder. Deafening. And I felt like stripping myself bare and running butt naked to a place farther away than Africa. Away to a place where bad things never happened. What’s the route to Utopia? Was I to just close my eyes and imagine myself there? For once, couldn’t the fucking place just be real?!