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Obsidian static the puppet master

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  Obsidian static, the puppet master. (Verse 1) The crevice opens like a silent, dusty lung Air thick with minerals and a thousand forgotten years I'm rappelling down the sheer black into a chasm's memory My boots crunch on shattered polymer No sound but the suit's respiration But the stillness is a stage The jagged walls, they lean in now (Refrain) The Paraknowing a cold spike of dread at the base of the skull It’s not a thought, it’s a wave Static buzz. Who's the puppet and who is the master? High-tensile wires disappear into the light The tightening the silent pull above the gully (Verse 2) The godly face, brittle stone work It emerges, eyes blank and unseeing But it broadcasts a sharp spike of loss and profound love My logic stutters, snagging on the input An effigy , a sentinel or just a mirror I turn and see the audience waiting Small, white figures, balanced stone totems They are all part of it (Verse 3) The strings pass through my wrist Not from me, but through...

Necropolis Gully

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  Necropolis Gully Ancient Fertility  The only sound in the deep quiet of the crevice was the crunch of my boots on the debris-strewn ground. Towering stone walls, draped in vibrant green moss , rose on either side, making me feel like an intruder in a forgotten tomb . My matte-black suit , a product of a future this place could never have imagined, felt profane against the ancient rock . Then I saw it: a weathered, silent figure standing in the path. It was a statue of a woman , carved from the same stone as the gully but shaped with clear intent. Moss crept up its base and clung to its form like a second skin. This impossible artifact, an architectural anomaly in this raw, natural fissure , stopped me. My steady, determined posture belied the storm of questions raging in my mind. The statue stared forward with blank, unseeing eyes, a silent witness to a history I had just stumbled into. My mission was to find my crew, but this place, this silent, stone woman , was a new, un...

The Sanctuary of Shifting Mirrors book two STC

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 The Sanctuary of Shifting Mirrors The Space Tourist Chronicles (book two) Author:  John Bennett AKA JJFBbennett   Kindle edition out soon After the profound discovery of the Sunrise Tree , the crew of the Subi seeks a simple respite at the legendary Rumour Mill . But this 'stop and revive' station is no mere diner. It's a sanctuary of shifting mirrors and liquid reality , where the greatest temptation isn't on the menu. When a simple reflection offers a glimpse into a life of forgotten comforts, the crew must learn that in a place that trades in dreams, the price of indulgence is memory itself. Podcast:  https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXaHuXMcUMrhIzfjKlj9clJCOfOlb5B5B  Meta TV: https://www.facebook.com/watch/100063480315046/1020837046583872/ Blogger: https://www.jjfbbennett.com/2025/09/the-space-tourist-chronicles-book-one.html FB Subscriber Hub https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1AycZvNRzH/ Tags #art # Spacestation # scifi #fictionalworld #story # ar...

The Space Tourist Chronicles book one

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The Space Tourist Chronicles my first eBook Kindle edition AU  https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0FSS9XH59   AS  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FSS9XH59 by John Bennett (Author) AKA JJFBbennett The Space Tourist Chronicles is a wild and hazardous space adventure in a post-collapse universe , following intrepid space tourists and their bio-engineered cyborg spoodle, Katcha, aboard their battered Subi spacecraft as they embark on a perilous journey filled with dangerous detours, celestial traffic jams, and encounters with unique cosmic phenomena. The Space Tourist Chronicles : Katcha the 1st Spoodle in Space by John Bennett (Author) AKA JJFBbennett The story follows two space travellers, JB and BK, and their genetically-modified spoodle, Katcha, as they embark on a journey in their old freighter, the Subi. Their goal is to reach the mythical Outpost Aurum , a famed tourist destination. Their journey first takes them to the Rumour Mill , a dangerous asteroid station, to acquire n...

The Cryo Unit

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  Cryo Unit:  confirmation and protocol The voice, a sterile, disembodied presence that has become as familiar as my own thoughts, began its report. "Status: Your Brass Monkey cryo-unit is engaged. Internal temperature regulation is optimal." A faint hum, almost imperceptible through the thick insulation of the unit, confirmed its words. I felt the gentle thrum of the cryo-fluid circulating, a constant reminder of the fragile balance being maintained within my metallic sarcophagus . "External forces, such as extreme G-load, confirm the slingshot maneuver is active, exploiting Delta-Nine traffic gravitational pull for maximum velocity." The words brought with them a subtle shift in pressure, a barely discernible tremor that resonated deep within the reinforced shell of my vessel. Delta-Nine, a scar of immense antimatter , was now a critical point in our journey, its colossal gravitational field bending space and time to propel us into the unthinkable anomaly. Are w...

We are going in

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  We are going in (Verse 1) Our energy, it's draining, draining low. Our reserves, dwindling, dwindling. Faces glow, a strained, weary show. So weary. A crisis, a crisis at hand. The Primary Trade Lane, gripped. So tightly gripped. Delta-Nine, a nightmare. It's about to make us slip. Just slip. (Chorus) But then, a presence. A presence. A hospitality's call, on the fringe. The very fringe of uncharted space. Before we fall. We fall. The anomaly. A desperate hope. In the night. Their whole mission, hanging. Hanging in the dim, fading light. So dim. (Bridge) Yeah, we're going in. Going in. With a whisper. And a plea. Into the unknown. The unknown. For all the world to see. To see. The ozone, thin. So thin. Despair in the air. Just despair. But something. Something is out there. Beyond compare. Beyond. (Chorus) The anomaly. A desperate hope. In the night. Their whole mission, hanging. Hanging in the dim, fading light. So dim. We're going in. Going in. With a whisper. A...