Sub-Merged

Photo by Nariman Mesharrafa on Unsplash

This is a part of my One More Verse series; you can find them all here.


After half a month in the abyss, the dim lights of the wet-dock felt like a womb, a warm haven from the dark. Faint simulated sunlight filtered in through the hardened plastic ceiling, illuminating the room as if it were late afternoon; in reality, the surface was nearly two-hundred metres up and it was nearly sunset, but he relished the feeling despite that. The “sun” warmed his skin and soothed his frazzled mind as he clambered through the bulkhead, feeling like a criminal seeking sanctuary from the harsh underwater world. He glanced behind him to see where his partner Horrick was.

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Low Tide

Photo by Giovanni Arechavaleta on Unsplash

This is a part of my One More Verse series; you can find them all here.

This story was inspired by these images by Yun Ling. In this story, the character Din uses the neopronouns Fae/Faer; here is a short guide about them.


Murky static, like layers on layers of ocean, compressed and stacked up in ways that would make sedimentary rock blush.

This was Yox’s life: sifting through datum and voices with the practised ease of an algorithm, unravelling transmission bundles with all the care of an octogenarian opening their birthday presents. Sometimes the bundles contained beautiful imagery, intoxicating emotion and amazing clarity. Other times, the feelings and words and numbers were sewn so tightly it was impossible to decipher it without immersing oneself in it, sinking below the water level of Tidepool Relay Indigo to fully experience the transmissions.

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The Giants and the Pea

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

This is a part of my One More Verse series; you can find them all here.


Floating. Always floating; bobbing along the interstellar currents, cold winds from nearby stars buffeting them, breezing over their skin like a hot wash of fire, a blast furnace’s bellowing voice in the infinite dark. It was deep and rumbling, playing the same three low notes over, and over and-

The low beeping dug through Hara’s cryostasis like a needle, a strange mechanical noise in that murky fluid void-dream. It made them think about gutting the console again, but they knew they’d have to fix it afterwards. They managed a raspy mutter, palming the comms panel clumsily as they sat up against the pod, trying to breathe fire through aching lungs.

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