M writing's spot

Author of "Reality and Contagion", now working on "Neon Gods Dance". Scifi, weird, hororr, I have it all, dude. Find more at mwrites.net https://linktr.ee/m_maponi

[seyekanes]

Sometimes it would happen. Sometimes a Neon God would manifest itself straight up in your face, as you went back home to your husband - the one that hated you deeply - or while you tried to make you kids behave and stay off the road.

In Neon City we knew this. People joked about this. Hells, we never talked about of all the lives screwed up by Neons or by fucking other Gods but we knew it could happen, and it made those encounters all the more magical, when the Gods would appear without hurt, as walls of lights or impossible geometries or trains of trailing fingers. We'd watch and gape in awe and find our faith in the sweet science of existence.

[seyekanes]

Muse Support | Seye Kanes | Substack

Inspiration and commentary for writers and readers. The Wired articles about 'What Is Creativity' that you never got to read. Click to read

[rootsinthefuture]

[seyekanes]

"The feelings he had were just shadows crawling on a darkened wall. Down below, cars stuck in traffic were a slow serpent of light. And the crippling sense of inadequacy, all the more painful by how mundane and pathetic it was."

Cicada, 2023, coming soon

[robsheridan]

[Update: Apocalypse in Pink part 2 is out now]

Before Barbenheimer, there was “Apocalypse in Pink,” the August 1983 theme of fashion/culture magazine SPECTAGORIA. The issue’s controversial imagery of Barbie-esque models attempting to stay gorgeous and glamorous amidst nuclear annihilation sought to, in the words of editor/photographer Sera Clairmont, “revel in the morbid absurdity of the new American condition,” an “anxiety vibrating underneath all our plastic smiles.”

“It’s The Hot Pink Cold War,” Clairmont wrote in her introduction. “It’s ‘Material Girl’ on the radio and ‘WarGames’ at the drive-in. It’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ interrupted by the emergency broadcast signal. We’re told to look sexy, dress fashionable, make money, and spend money, but be sure we’re just the right amount of terrified about the bomb. Get that Malibu dream home, keep working on that perfect body, sip cocktails by the pool in your little pink bikini and watching the stocks go up — but STAY VIGILANT! and for God’s sake vote Republican, because that dream home could melt into a pink plastic inferno at any given moment. Just don’t stop smiling as the blast liquefies your skin into bubbling ooze like a Barbie doll in a microwave - it’s bad for the economy.”

***Continued in PART 2***

---------

NOTE: This is a work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.

[seyekanes]

What's a muse, exactly?

And what are we doing here?

[seyekanes]

The real estate agent is a little man with a bald head you could land a helicopter on, his suit is faded and his fingers smoke-yellowed. He's the kind of man who comes home to a family that doesn't love him. A useless father, who prefers colored pachinko slots to his tired wife. The kind who can't speak to his children without grabbing his wallet. He threw himself into work thinking of making a career with commitment. Had his manager asked to cut off his index finger, he would have said, "which hand?".

Kodokushi

The agency I work for makes sure that all traces disappear. Ideally the memory of the deceased should also follow suit.

[seyekanes]

The real estate agent is a little man with a bald head you could land a helicopter on, his suit is faded and his fingers smoke-yellowed. He's the kind of man who comes home to a family that doesn't love him. A useless father, who prefers colored pachinko slots to his tired wife. The kind who can't speak to his children without grabbing his wallet. He threw himself into work thinking of making a career with commitment. Had his manager asked to cut off his index finger, he would have said, "which hand?".

Kodokushi

The agency I work for makes sure that all traces disappear. Ideally the memory of the deceased should also follow suit.

[seyekanes]

In red light, the screeching of metal of a sewer lid being lifted. Pale, rosy hands followed by a stretched-out form, covered in rags from toe to head. A first figure emerged from the hole, followed by smaller ones, all dressed in tatters and leftover plastic bags. Maybe a family. It was difficult to tell, the dark crimson on the street, but she was almost sure some of those creatures had a tail. From her right, a face flashed in a piece of glass. A man with multiple irises in his eyes.

Neon City Tarot: the Perfumer, Seye Kanes

[seyekanes]

"The old man lingered at the entrance, trying to squeeze off the water from his jumpsuit, his face reminiscent of those dogs so used to being beaten that they no longer flinch when they see the blow coming."

Part of Candido Reloaded, a Neon City's short story. Available fro free to read on https://en.mwrites.net/

[seyekanes]

The Circle

Neon City Tarot: The Circle, Seye Kanes

“Someone needs to explain me how a single soldier survived all that, with his rifle untouched.”

Merry wasn’t so green to speak out of line. She stood, immobile, in the colonel’s tent, her mind fuzzy. Her entire team was dead, and what the colonel said was correct, but her mind was processing everything at a distance. On Merry’s side, equally troubled but rather more lucid Feriberd, the company’s commander. Chest high, hands kept behind back constantly fidgeting. 

Reports on the situation were traveling through the hierarchy at an alarming rate and they were bound to go upper. Still, the colonel wasn’t known to be the kind of woman that passed up a chance to reprimand someone.

[dancers-7]

BLAME! by Tsutomu Nihei

[seyekanes]

In blue light, A woman stormed out of a wider room, pushing Nemeri and the bouncer out of her way. The far gentler smell of rosemary incense coated, somewhat ineffectively, the unavoidable toxicity of burnt plastic. Reddish paper strips adorning the upper side of what could be a tori gate, signaling a temple. A series of small shops aligned on the right wall, selling parlor tricks and charms and wish-me-well and plastic paraphernalia.

RED LIGHT, BLUE LIGHT, from "All Neon Gods Dance". The character is Nemeri Ren.

[seyekanes]

"Here's guilt," said the husk. "Here's God." From the upcoming novel "Cicada"

[seyekanes]

"Here's guilt," said the husk. "Here's God." From the upcoming novel "Cicada"

[seyekanes]

Leggi di più su https://www.mwrites.net/post/il-ritorno

[seyekanes]

Leggi di più su https://www.mwrites.net/post/lo-yggdrasil-tagliato