Skyler Saunders
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Stories (3003)
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Appropriate
The pieces of fabric fell to the floor like joy unraveling. Kitchens remained bereft of all food items. Potato sacks replaced the dresses and suits and denim jeans and t-shirts. Everyone in the United States all looked the same—ashen and like grey blobs of paint against a portrait of utter bleakness. Henrik Niles and his wife Anita were with their three children, Bradford (12), Caxton (eight), and Cecily (five), all huddled in their house as the government officials cleared out their home in Alapocas, Delaware. The expansive space proved to be a gem for the Appropriators to rummage through, ransack, and rob the rightful owners, their property. The sun on this day in August blistered the Delaware area and sent tensions high. Families lined up down the blocks filled with spacious mansions. This anger simmered as the Appropriators went in and out of homes like pest control agents.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in The Swamp
Motarded
A fire truck red pickup truck with chrome around the fenders and dual exhaust pipes roared to a stop at the Marine Corps Recruiting Station in Newark, Delaware. Private First Class Klyde Bakeman hopped out of the truck and yelled, “Oohrah!” He had covered the truck in decals: one read the “Rifleman’s Creed,” in red of course; another showed a bulldog with a KA-Bar between its teeth, another showed the division Bakeman hoped he be assigned to, First Marine Division; and among the dozens of “Semper Fi” stickers he also had a large Eagle Globe and Anchor decal on the hood of the truck in metallic gold. A vanity plate simply read, "Chesty."
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
It Is Well
Great plumes of smoke escaped from one of the tanks at chemical company Hylan, Inc. in Wilmington, Delaware. Dark figures scurried off into the night. This October evening brought with it it’s own tone of terror even though Mischief Night and Halloween remained weeks away.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Futurism
Choker Chain
Niso Quan, 20 and buoyant, walked down the street. It was the middle of the night in May. His chain wrapped around his neck like slave apparel. He listened to his music via his smartphones and earbuds. He ambled with a theatricality that spoke of rhythm and precise paces. He didn’t dance to the music. He was the music. He got all the way to the West Side in Wilmington, Delaware on Fifth Street. He approached his door when he stopped in mid-march. A few coughs and a gasp expelled from his mouth as he tugged at his chain. The thing would not come off of his neck. He gasped and gasped as he tried to use the butterfly knife that he carried around to slice through the links to no avail. More coughs came. Deep breaths came afterward. The chain only squeezed tighter like an anaconda wrapping around its prey. At last, he gave out his final breath. Quan perished right in front of his house with not a witness around.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Futurism
For His Self-Interest
Pickup trucks by the dozens bombarded the gates. Personnel guarding those premises fell by gunfire and rocket-propelled grenade attacks. Barriers moved out of the way of the trucks once the men had employed a special machine to separate the obstructions with hydraulic rescue tools. The flow of enemy personnel swarmed the base like wasps. The Dover Air Force Base in Dover, Delaware braced for an attack by foreign aggressors. This night in April called the best men and women in uniform to action.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
A Near High-Tech Lynching
On a dusty road lined with trees, in Lewes, Delaware the moon’s glow permitted thirty-three-year-old Phillips Colby an added amount of light that his smartphone provided. His skin looked like coffee grounds. He looked for a ride sharing service vehicle that had been running late. He walked with his head in the screen. Just as he picked up his face there stood before him four white men, one with a noose. The three others held a camera with a light affixed to it, a laptop and a microphone, respectively.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Futurism
Their Own Selfish Lives
At an outpost in Dover, Delaware on the Dover Air Force Base, two female officers of the United States Marine Corps met one morning in April. She entered with swift movements. She stood at attention in front of her boss, Major General Magdalene McCorkell.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
W as in Whiskey
The barracks room sparkled. Every piece of furniture that could shine gleamed. Lance Corporal Hinton Knoll, aged 22, and Private First Class Corbin Volta, aged 21, looked back at their labor like a cooper observes a well-made barrel. They walked out of their room, but neglected to conceal two bottles of Tennessee whiskey.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
The World of Honor and Pride
“I don’t approve of female Marines,” Captain Boller said at the Newark, Delaware Marine Officer Selection Office. His thick arms nearly burst of out of his blue dress “D” uniform that day in June. A bulldog named Pappy circled the desk and chair where the Boller sat. Tymeeka Timmons leaned back in her chair.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Viva
Big Chicken Dinner
In shackles and a brown jumpsuit, Davidson Post stood before the Judge Advocate General (JAG), Air Force Colonel Nathan Speight. Post looked disheveled and disoriented. It was if his face began to melt to the floor he was so slack jawed. He leaned slightly to the right.
By Skyler Saunders7 years ago in Serve
