Everyday people vote for the weather. A large, mechanical cloud floats across the sky and reacts to the popular vote. The cloud is supposed to be perfect. So why does it rain everyday?

××××××××××××××××××××××××××× Fickle: {adjective} changing frequently, especially as regards one's loyalties or affections. ×××××××××××××××××××××××××××

This is a growing collection of writing contest, prompt, submissions as well as other random works in the speculative, scifi genre.

As a result of the last atomic war, the world is under the effects of a nuclear winter and it has become a wasteland, permanently covered by ice and snow. Mankind has almost extinguished, and the few survivors are confined to a narrow band around the equator. Facing such a harsh environment, a research vessel sails northwards to investigate some weird reflections captured by satellite-photographs.

Nothing good ever happened to Kane Wicker. You could call his life a little...lackluster. Living on Earth, the only things he was good at was being a thief and attracting trouble. He lived and died by his code of staying out of the way and minding his own business but...something changed. There is a revolution brewing in Earth against the planet Proxima and only the poor are willing to stand up. Somehow, with Wick's luck, he's ended up right in the middle of it. He's landed in a situation he can't get out of and its either get involved with the revolution and betray his own, or die. (this story will be continued after April 28th, stay tuned)