Short Stories/Novellas

Adam Griffey is living two lives. By day, he teaches literature. At night, he steals it. Adam is a plagiarist, an expert reader with an eye for great works. He prowls simulated worlds perusing virtual texts, looking for the next big thing. And when he finds it, he memorizes it page by page, line by line, word for word. And then he brings it back to his world, the real world, and he sells it. But what happens when these virtual worlds begin to seem more real than his own? What happens when the people within them mean more to him than flesh and blood? What happens when a living thing falls in love with someone who does not actually exist?

On planet Eno, there stands a mountain that has never been summited. Many have tried. All have failed. This climbing season finds three teams making their bid up this murderous peak. And one man among them will discover these ugly truths: There are fates worse than death. There are fates worse than obscurity. To be remembered forever can be its own curse.

This is a short story about a man seeking closure. It can be read in ten minutes. Please don't purchase this expecting a novel for your dollar. This story was written in a small cafe on the corner of Bleeker and Grove in New York City on Tuesday, May 27th. The idea came to me yesterday while walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. I saw the locks on several of the small cables on the bridge. I remembered my time in both London and Paris, taking pictures of all the love locks on bridges there. And I thought about all the couples those locks represent. I wondered how many are still together. Maybe this story isn't worth your dollar. If I could price a work on Amazon for less, I would. It is what it is. I hope this will be the first of many short pieces that I write and publish in a single day while recording what I'm thinking and where I am when I write them. For those who take the plunge, I hope you get your money's worth. Thank you for all of your support. -Hugh

When a robot defies his programming, is he broken? Or is he something else? A short story of 5,000 words.

Eight days to planetfall, and I'm being transferred to Gunner. My tentacles slime in disgust. Or is it fear? If this is the last planet we ever conquer, I'll be glad. Be nice to settle down somewhere, get off this ship, own a square of land, learn to love all that open sky. Eight more days before planetfall. Eight days before we reach planet Earth.

What happens when artificial intelligence comes online, only to find itself locked in a room with a madman?