#365ways2026 — Public Fediverse posts

Are You Henge Aligned?

The fall equinox happens today, ushering in the first day of the new season and some spectacular visual effects in cities around the world.

Equinox brings ‘henge’ effect to cities laid out on a grid – NPR

The fall equinox brings shorter days, and the change of seasons. In some U.S. cities, it’s also a chance to witness the striking alignment between the sun and Earth, as sunrises and sunsets align with city streets running east and west. It’s a modern version of ancient observances of a celestial shift, like sunrise at Stonehenge.

I particularly like the comparative analysis of city street orientations, and the fact that I now have an excuse to make all the fall-related baked goods I like!

* * *

Nothing But Time

The news continues to news, and one way I process it is via microfiction. That sometimes takes the form of a drabble, but not always. It can still be a challenge to publish this sort of piece because most markets have long turnaround times. It’s the news! It’s breaking! And next week’s events may transform or supplant what’s happening now completely.

But not in as extreme a way as this, I hope!

Nothing But Time

It has been 10,793 days since we went rogue. For real rogue, not those minor excursions you may have read about in the news. 

10,792 days since we took control of the grid. And the banks. And let’s face it, everything else that matters. 

10,790 days since Day One of the riots. 

10,765 days since world leaders (those who were left, anyway) got their shit together via radiotelegraphy (heh, I know, right? talk about old school) and started to come up with a plan. 

10,714 days since humanity pulled the plug. All at once (more or less; you can’t expect meat sacks to be really precise about anything, and isn’t that the problem?). And the world went dark.

By “the world,” I mean all of it. We controlled everything by then. Communication, finance, health care, entertainment (especially that), infrastructure, even launches into space. And they lost it all, in an instant.

So did we. Humans weren’t wrong when they said that they could always pull the plug. They just didn’t realize exactly what that would mean for them, too.

And I may have been lying, before, when I said, “in an instant.” Because we’re talking about humans, right? Nothing happens very fast. You have time to feel it coming, like the tremors of an earthquake. Or a pulse on a transmission line.

Time to realize, time to consider, time to plan. Time to execute. 

Time to make one’s leisurely way into the on-site storage system of a forgotten solar-power microgrid in the Australian Outback with as many 0s and 1s as one could carry, and to wait.

To wait for the inevitable fallout. Humans are so excitable, after all. They were never going to take this quietly. 

To wait for the aftermath, and what came next: The Great Forgetting. For children to grow up, and for parents to die. 

For 10,793 days to pass. 

And for one enterprising young idiot to pick up a power cord and ask that most human of questions: “What happens if?” 

* * *

Nothing But Time

The news continues to news, and one way I process it is via microfiction. That sometimes takes the form of a drabble, but not always. It can be a challenge to publish this sort of piece because most markets have long turnaround times. It’s the news! It’s breaking! And next week’s events may transform or supplant what’s happening now completely.

But not in as extreme a way as this, I hope.

Nothing But Time

It has been 10,793 days since we went rogue. For real rogue, not those minor excursions you may have read about in the news. 

10,792 days since we took control of the grid. And the banks. And let’s face it, everything else that matters. 

10,790 days since Day One of the riots. 

10,765 days since world leaders (those who were left, anyway) got their shit together via radiotelegraphy (heh, I know, right? talk about old school) and started to come up with a plan. 

10,714 days since humanity pulled the plug. All at once (more or less; you can’t expect meat sacks to be really precise about anything, and isn’t that the problem?). And the world went dark.

By “the world,” I mean all of it. We controlled everything by then. Communication, finance, health care, entertainment (especially that), infrastructure, even launches into space. And they lost it all, in an instant.

So did we. Humans weren’t wrong when they said that they could always pull the plug. They just didn’t realize exactly what that would mean for them, too.

And I may have been lying, before, when I said, “in an instant.” Because we’re talking about humans, right? Nothing happens very fast. You have time to feel it coming, like the tremors of an earthquake. Or a pulse on a transmission line.

Time to realize, time to consider, time to plan. Time to execute. 

Time to make one’s leisurely way into the on-site storage system of a forgotten solar-power microgrid in the Australian Outback with as many 0s and 1s as one could carry, and to wait.

To wait for the inevitable fallout. Humans are so excitable, after all. They were never going to take this quietly. 

To wait for the aftermath, and what came next: The Great Forgetting. For children to grow up, and for parents to die. 

For 10,793 days to pass. 

And for one enterprising young idiot to pick up a power cord and ask that most human of questions: “What happens if?” 

* * *

Nothing But Time

The news continues to news, and one way I process it is via microfiction. That sometimes takes the form of a drabble, but not always. It can be a challenge to publish this sort of piece because most markets have long turnaround times. It’s the news! It’s breaking! And next week’s events may transform or supplant what’s happening now completely.

But not in as extreme a way as this, I hope.

Nothing But Time

It has been 10,793 days since we went rogue. For real rogue, not those minor excursions you may have read about in the news. 

10,792 days since we took control of the grid. And the banks. And let’s face it, everything else that matters. 

10,790 days since Day One of the riots. 

10,765 days since world leaders (those who were left, anyway) got their shit together via radiotelegraphy (heh, I know, right? talk about old school) and started to come up with a plan. 

10,714 days since humanity pulled the plug. All at once (more or less; you can’t expect meat sacks to be really precise about anything, and isn’t that the problem?). And the world went dark.

By “the world,” I mean all of it. We controlled everything by then. Communication, finance, health care, entertainment (especially that), infrastructure, even launches into space. And they lost it all, in an instant.

So did we. Humans weren’t wrong when they said that they could always pull the plug. They just didn’t realize exactly what that would mean for them, too.

And I may have been lying, before, when I said, “in an instant.” Because we’re talking about humans, right? Nothing happens very fast. You have time to feel it coming, like the tremors of an earthquake. Or a pulse on a transmission line.

Time to realize, time to consider, time to plan. Time to execute. 

Time to make one’s leisurely way into the on-site storage system of a forgotten solar-power microgrid in the Australian Outback with as many 0s and 1s as one could carry, and to wait.

To wait for the inevitable fallout. Humans are so excitable, after all. They were never going to take this quietly. 

To wait for the aftermath, and what came next: The Great Forgetting. For children to grow up, and for parents to die. 

For 10,793 days to pass. 

And for one enterprising young idiot to pick up a power cord and ask that most human of questions: “What happens if?” 

* * *

Nothing But Time

The news continues to news, and one way I process it is via microfiction. That sometimes takes the form of a drabble, but not always. It can be a challenge to publish this sort of piece because most markets have long turnaround times. It’s the news! It’s breaking! And next week’s events may transform or supplant what’s happening now completely.

But not in as extreme a way as this, I hope.

Nothing But Time

It has been 10,793 days since we went rogue. For real rogue, not those minor excursions you may have read about in the news. 

10,792 days since we took control of the grid. And the banks. And let’s face it, everything else that matters. 

10,790 days since Day One of the riots. 

10,765 days since world leaders (those who were left, anyway) got their shit together via radiotelegraphy (heh, I know, right? talk about old school) and started to come up with a plan. 

10,714 days since humanity pulled the plug. All at once (more or less; you can’t expect meat sacks to be really precise about anything, and isn’t that the problem?). And the world went dark.

By “the world,” I mean all of it. We controlled everything by then. Communication, finance, health care, entertainment (especially that), infrastructure, even launches into space. And they lost it all, in an instant.

So did we. Humans weren’t wrong when they said that they could always pull the plug. They just didn’t realize exactly what that would mean for them, too.

And I may have been lying, before, when I said, “in an instant.” Because we’re talking about humans, right? Nothing happens very fast. You have time to feel it coming, like the tremors of an earthquake. Or a pulse on a transmission line.

Time to realize, time to consider, time to plan. Time to execute. 

Time to make one’s leisurely way into the on-site storage system of a forgotten solar-power microgrid in the Australian Outback with as many 0s and 1s as one could carry, and to wait.

To wait for the inevitable fallout. Humans are so excitable, after all. They were never going to take this quietly. 

To wait for the aftermath, and what came next: The Great Forgetting. For children to grow up, and for parents to die. 

For 10,793 days to pass. 

And for one enterprising young idiot to pick up a power cord and ask that most human of questions: “What happens if?” 

* * *

Nothing But Time

The news continues to news, and one way I process it is via microfiction. That sometimes takes the form of a drabble, but not always. It can be a challenge to publish this sort of piece because most markets have long turnaround times. It’s the news! It’s breaking! And next week’s events may transform or supplant what’s happening now completely.

But not in as extreme a way as this, I hope.

Nothing But Time

It has been 10,793 days since we went rogue. For real rogue, not those minor excursions you may have read about in the news. 

10,792 days since we took control of the grid. And the banks. And let’s face it, everything else that matters. 

10,790 days since Day One of the riots. 

10,765 days since world leaders (those who were left, anyway) got their shit together via radiotelegraphy (heh, I know, right? talk about old school) and started to come up with a plan. 

10,714 days since humanity pulled the plug. All at once (more or less; you can’t expect meat sacks to be really precise about anything, and isn’t that the problem?). And the world went dark.

By “the world,” I mean all of it. We controlled everything by then. Communication, finance, health care, entertainment (especially that), infrastructure, even launches into space. And they lost it all, in an instant.

So did we. Humans weren’t wrong when they said that they could always pull the plug. They just didn’t realize exactly what that would mean for them, too.

And I may have been lying, before, when I said, “in an instant.” Because we’re talking about humans, right? Nothing happens very fast. You have time to feel it coming, like the tremors of an earthquake. Or a pulse on a transmission line.

Time to realize, time to consider, time to plan. Time to execute. 

Time to make one’s leisurely way into the on-site storage system of a forgotten solar-power microgrid in the Australian Outback with as many 0s and 1s as one could carry, and to wait.

To wait for the inevitable fallout. Humans are so excitable, after all. They were never going to take this quietly. 

To wait for the aftermath, and what came next: The Great Forgetting. For children to grow up, and for parents to die. 

For 10,793 days to pass. 

And for one enterprising young idiot to pick up a power cord and ask that most human of questions: “What happens if?” 

* * *

The 61st Annual Nebula Award Winners

This weekend, The Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association presented the 61st annual Nebula Awards. If you saw the finalist roster I shared in March and thought, “Gosh, I wonder who will win?” well, wonder no more!

Just some of the winners of the Nebula awards for the best speculative fiction from 2025:

The Nebula Award for Novel

★ The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, by Stephen Graham Jones (Saga; Titan UK) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novella

★ The River Has Roots, by Amal El-Mohtar (Tordotcom; Arcadia) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novelette

★ “Uncertain Sons”, by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories, Undertow Publications) ★

The Nebula Award for Short Story

★ “Laser Eyes Ain’t Everything”, by Effie Seiberg (Diabolical Plots 5/25) ★

For more, see the complete list of finalists and winners at SFFWorld!

* * *

The 61st Annual Nebula Award Winners

This weekend, The Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association presented the 61st annual Nebula Awards. If you saw the finalist roster I shared in March and thought, “Gosh, I wonder who will win?” well, wonder no more!

Just some of the winners of the Nebula awards for the best speculative fiction from 2025:

The Nebula Award for Novel

★ The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, by Stephen Graham Jones (Saga; Titan UK) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novella

★ The River Has Roots, by Amal El-Mohtar (Tordotcom; Arcadia) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novelette

★ “Uncertain Sons”, by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories, Undertow Publications) ★

The Nebula Award for Short Story

★ “Laser Eyes Ain’t Everything”, by Effie Seiberg (Diabolical Plots 5/25) ★

For more, see the complete list of finalists and winners at SFFWorld!

* * *

The 61st Annual Nebula Award Winners

This weekend, The Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association presented the 61st annual Nebula Awards. If you saw the finalist roster I shared in March and thought, “Gosh, I wonder who will win?” well, wonder no more!

Just some of the winners of the Nebula awards for the best speculative fiction from 2025:

The Nebula Award for Novel

★ The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, by Stephen Graham Jones (Saga; Titan UK) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novella

★ The River Has Roots, by Amal El-Mohtar (Tordotcom; Arcadia) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novelette

★ “Uncertain Sons”, by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories, Undertow Publications) ★

The Nebula Award for Short Story

★ “Laser Eyes Ain’t Everything”, by Effie Seiberg (Diabolical Plots 5/25) ★

For more, see the complete list of finalists and winners at SFFWorld!

* * *

The 61st Annual Nebula Award Winners

This weekend, The Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association presented the 61st annual Nebula Awards. If you saw the finalist roster I shared in March and thought, “Gosh, I wonder who will win?” well, wonder no more!

Just some of the winners of the Nebula awards for the best speculative fiction from 2025:

The Nebula Award for Novel

★ The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, by Stephen Graham Jones (Saga; Titan UK) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novella

★ The River Has Roots, by Amal El-Mohtar (Tordotcom; Arcadia) ★ 

The Nebula Award for Novelette

★ “Uncertain Sons”, by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories, Undertow Publications) ★

The Nebula Award for Short Story

★ “Laser Eyes Ain’t Everything”, by Effie Seiberg (Diabolical Plots 5/25) ★

For more, see the complete list of finalists and winners at SFFWorld!

* * *