This week’s fiction offering is from a challenge I did back when I was a member of The goal was to write a 500 word story using only dialog. Here is one of those attempts. A piece of humorous future science fiction. I hope you enjoy.

“Hi, grandpa Joe.”



“High?  Sure is.  A hundred thirty-two floors, bah.  What’s wrong with livin’ near the ground.”

“You mean ‘the ocean’, and the tidal forces are too strong to be safe.  But I meant ‘hello'”

“Yellow?  You talkin’ ’bout the smog?  Not in my day.  Sky clear as crystal, blue as the ocean…well, as the ocean used to be.  No green water and yellow sky.  Green was fer grass back then.  Hmmm, ain’t seen me no grass in nigh on a decade now.”

“I brought the kids, grandpa Joe.  Maybe they’d like to hear a story about the old days?”

“Aww dad…”

“Dad, no…”

“Shhhhh, be polite.”

“Maybe they’d like to hear a story ’bout the old days?  Back afore the sky became too thin and the oceans too thick.”

“Certainly, grandpa…”

“Shhh, don’t int’rupt.  Where was I?  Ahh yes.

“‘Twas the fall of fifty-six.  Or maybe the spring?  Nope, fall.  An’ a mighty hot one.  I remember ’cause the fall fashions were out and less was more, if ya know what I mean.”


“Tut, tut.  Some thin’s never change, thank Deus.  But some thin’s do.  An’ that year somethin’ big changed.”

“What was it grandpa?”

“Tell us.”



“Happy?  No?  Then let grandpa tell it his way.

“‘Twas the fall of fifty-eight…”


“…fifty-six.  No one expected it, you understand, on account of the government sayin’ there was nothin’ to worry about and the TV showin’ only the war with China.

“Anyway, I was late for work that morning, so I quickly slathered on my SkinSaver and ran out of the apartment.  Dashing across the dock, I just caught the 8:30 heading downtown.

“The Los Angeles Archipelago was crowded that morning.  Boats of all sizes clogged the waterways.  Back then, gas was only twenty-eight dollars a gallon, but we still thought it expensive.  Regardless, people zipped along in their gas-guzzlers; big speed-boats or all-weather yachts that had no place in the crowded lanes of the city.  I stood on the railing, looking out toward the tall business spires poking out from the calm, blue waters and thought of the tongue-lashing my boss was gonna give me.

“But all that changed in an instant.  Suddenly, the buildings shook, the water rippled fiercely and the boats were tossed about like toys, crashing into each other or capsizing.  Shattered glass from the buildings rained down upon us.

“I watched, clinging to the railing, as the tide rushed out, dropping us almost to the old street level.  And then it came.  A wall of water five hundred feet high if an inch.  It slammed into the downtown core, pulverizing the office buildings and devastating the city.  Twenty million dead in one stroke.  When it reached us it had run out of steam, but its deed was already done.

“They rebuilt, of course, people are stubborn.  But no one forgot the big one of  ’56”

“Wow, grandpa Joe, that’s amazing.  Grandpa Joe?”

“Yes child?”

“Were you really alive in 2056?”

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