Writing Prompt

I hum as I walk into my kitchen in the back, ready to prepare a feast for all senses. I am the Chef LaDurro El Charpudo, world renowned baker and cook. I have my own hologram show. I teach brilliant young chefs to cook prefection. I have millions of fans. I have the biggest one man resturaunt in the world.

Well, two person. I share it with my daughter Amelia.

I wave to her as I step into the kit...

The year 2500 had seen the most massive uptick in space travel in centuries. The year 2300 had produced the very first lightspeed engine; 2400, the advanced lightspeed engine; and 2500 was the century of the super advanced lightspeed engine. And by golly, we were running out of names for lightspeed engines. One thing that we weren’t running out of, however, were ludberries. They came from the plan...

Eating for pleasure

No need to worry

Calories no treasure

In no hurry...

The air lock seals the entrance immediately after we enter my Pod - SR24. I walk straight to the incubator without addressing my guests — in the transparent container grows a single plant of basil.

The self-regulated incubator sends growth data to me when I’m away. But seeing it, seeing the tender green leaves getting bigger and darker each time, and the stems getting stronger, well, it’s a m...

I see an array of warm colors. The steam flying from the pot like a train whistling down the tracks. A plethora of reds and yellows and oranges swirl around before my eyes. Forming this dish was a challenge but also an exciting event. Feeling the soft red bombs burst between my fingertips and allowing for an array of flavor to splatter the bowl. In another moment I feel tears cascade down my cheek...

I’ve been studying for this moment for years, I’ve read the ancient texts, perused the ancient websites. I dream of chocolate and other things that went extinct two centuries ago. And yet I’m stuck with what I have.

My laser blade slices through the flesh of the fout, its jelly-like body jiggles a little as I scoop out its innards and mush them up in the bowl.

It’s a cruel thing taking somethi...

All I could think about was the rough texture beneath my fingers. That grainy, almost porous clay surface of grey matter. A substance infused with proteins, and nutrients, but with no flavor other than that of a flat, metallic sensation.

I’m so sick of this: the war. Not only for the deaths, but for the geographical consequences of it as well. With most of our natural food sources depleted or ext...

One hand holds a spoon. Another holds a jar of salt. My third hand holds the pan steady on the stove. One of my four tentacles is keeping a dish of finely diced onions at the ready. I use my new lovely white feathery wings (my latest Special Species Super Surgery - only the best for me) to fan away the heat from the dust powered stove. Everything is dust powered now. Since Earth’s oceans dried up,...

My sister once asked me how I still have five fingers on each hand, because when I chopped vegetables I did it way faster than anyone she knew. Faster than mom had, when she was still around. And I loved it when she complimented my skills. I loved having that connection with mom. Livy loved it, too. As if mom wasn’t gone after all.

Now, after so many years, I find myself chopping up my own...

A silvery flick of drones swooped and soared over a mirror lake. Transports streamed past Mount Shani. Their chem trails sparkled like diamonds against the platinum sky. Lewis 5 stared out the window over its station as it chopped Italian parsley.

“What do you think it’s thinking?” William whispered.

“Well it has been chopping herbs for three hours so I hope it is thinking of the lunch menu,” P...