Wish-Granting Aliens: Science Fiction

It's about the radiation, you see. It doesn't matter how much better for a kid it is to be with their mother--or their father--when it means going up into the solar radiation range. And when you get that drafted-to-work notice? Well, they don't have an exception for people who are the only parents of their children, not after the first six months. Like the kid would even remember you later if you left them after six months! So what you end up with is a bunch of people in space, and half of them are heartsick because they had to leave their kids behind. The ones who got deferred until the kid turned 6 months are the worst, because they had to leave their baby behind right when all the hormones and crazy brain chemistry and everything is fully kicked in to make them the best protectors ever. So is it any wonder that when wish-granting aliens showed up, our first sign of it was a passel of kids running through high-risk areas?


Inspiration: That icky story about the tanning mom.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: Wish-granting aliens who aren't there to make contact but who keep granting wishes....

The Washington Pastime Collections Anthology Vol. 1

This wasn't from one of my story ideas here, but--The Washington Pastime has put out an anthology of selection stories from the last year, including my heartwarming literary story, "Gone Huntin'." If you'd like to have it for your very own, you can get a copy here.

The man stamped his feet hard against the stoop when he stepped outside of his cabin. It was an hour yet before sunrise and cold enough that his breath frosted the air, hanging white against the dark of the trees. Even through the layered flannel shirts and down jacket he was wearing, he felt the bite of winter.

Shouldering his rifle, thermos in hand, he walked through the woods to his stand. Birds' sleepy chirps fell silent when he walked by, twigs snapping under his boots. There was just enough light for him to make out the path. When he reached his stand and climbed up the ladder, he saw fresh claw-marks from the black bear that roamed in the area on one of the trees nearby. They shone white against the dark tree bark. He was glad for his rifle.

Read more in The Washington Pastime Collections Anthology Vol. 1.