Author

Floris M. Kleijne

Floris M. Kleijne has spent most of his life writing short stories, and most of his so-called career compiling the kind of resume befitting a struggling writer: notary clerk, croissant baker, gopher, software developer, trainer, project manager, and labour health analyst. The patchwork career--and the incessant writing--paid off in 2005, when his third published story, the novelette "Meeting the Sculptor," won first place in Writers of the Future. He�s written about time travel, space travel, an axe murderess, people with gills, coffee obsession, murderous children (even though he�s a proud father of two), and a naked man in a cage (even though he�s happily married). Mashup is his tenth publication. His website is at www.floriskleijne.nl.

http://dailysciencefiction.com/science-fiction/robots-and-computers/floris-m-kleijne/www.floriskleijne.nl

Pining For My Demons

*****Editor's Note: Disturbing Story, Mature Issues***** I miss my demons. Devin says he likes the new me, the warmest L-word he's willing to employ these days. He dares to take me out now, to sit next to me in the opera house, where the merest cough is frowned upon; to treat me…

Pining For My Demons

Pop And The Pirates

'Stroid security was supposed to be easy work. A prelude to retirement. Slow and safe. A balm for my old bones. I duck a double-blast that shatters the rock above me, grabbing a fist-sized outcropping to counter the spin my sudden movement threw me in. "Fuck!" Below Micha's…

Fragments of a Falling-Out

and maple syrup in my mouth. A diminished stack of pancakes sits between us on the kitchen table. I glance around me to estimate the time, a habit as deeply ingrained as blinking, or biting my nails. I haven't worn a watch or carried a cell phone in years; they don't last beyond…

After We Buried The Hatchet

Months after Mom died, Matt and I finally buried the hatchet. I said we should dump it in the Bay, take Dad's old Boston Whaler out of San Francisco Marina and just toss it over the side. Matt argued that it wouldn't be burying that way, now would it? Our last full-blown…

Pain Tolerance and Resistance to Corrosive Substances In Four Specimens of Exomalaclemys Oharensis

Dr. J.J. Corr & Dr. A.B. McQuarry (Institute for Advanced Exobiological Research, Titan) Journal of Enhanced Interrogation Techniques (EIT) (Classified; requests for clearance to be addressed the Communications Director of the Galactic Intelligence Agency) Materials and methods…

The Last Rider of the Apocalypse

The Riders fled, and Porcaleo followed. Pestilence attempted to make the long, cold crossing to Andromeda. Some million light years into the void, Porcaleo overtook the fleeing murderess, and released the billions of cures he had accumulated over the millennia, until Pestilence…

Ashes to Ashes

The tracks on her cheeks could be rain. Shanylla would not cry, not this time. She watched with an icy heart as the flames licked the tiny body. The shroud caught easily, and yellow fire enveloped the empty, fever-ravaged shell of her daughter. The sonorous humming of the…

A Dragon's Nature

The raiding party piled out of the tunnel in a cacophony of heavy breathing, weaponry, and increasingly exasperated hushing noises. I dragged myself from my slumber atop the highest mound in my hoard to sniff out their scent. Dwarves. Who else. Sighing, I reached for the bottle…

Frog Soup

Please. I've done what you have asked of me, Ava. I've done everything. Please talk to me again. I've kept you hidden, just like you asked. Not a word has passed my lips about you since you came. When colleagues remarked on my sudden cheer, I answered in vague generalities. When…

Mashup

Told you so. In his mind, David could already hear the smugness in Otto's voice. It was infuriating. Even more infuriating than the ad itself. At his implant's next chime, David had perked up with happy anticipation of the latest suggestion from his Orakl Gen4. He had picked up…