Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

Whoa…did I eat too many magic mushrooms or something?  This is…this is…

I look around in dazed wonder, gaping at the ethereal columns of streaming iridescence, and the translucent haze beneath my feet.  It’s bowing slightly from the weight of my body, ringing my shoes with inward-dipping lines of distorted air.  Phantasmagoric creatures drift languidly by; they look like alien manta rays, or extradimensional jelly fish.

“Approach, Kent Wayne.”  A disembodied voice rings through my skull; it sounds like an electronic harp combined with an angelic choir.

“Um…okay.”  I start walking, moving across a makeshift path bounded by the columns of iridescence.  When I draw abreast of one, it dematerializes into a cloud of dancing motes.

Wow…so COOL…

I walk past scores of columns, causing them all to break into radiant fragments.  Eventually, I find myself standing before a throne.  Sitting upon it is a tall, beautiful lady who appears to be made of flashing rainbow.  It purls and slides across her skin, like a spectrum of color caught in an oil slick.

“I have something for you.”  She holds up a bowl filled with shimmering star-shine—light made liquid.

“What is it?”  I walk up the stairs leading to her throne.

“It’s Beauty, Kent—pure Beauty.  Drink deeply…you deserve it, for perpetuating novelty with each keystroke.  You’ve been writing stories for so long…you deserve a reward.”

I stop before her and take the bowl.  I lift it to my face, close my eyes, and inhale its scent.  My God…

“It smells like Pretty,” I murmur, opening my eyes.

She gives me a wide, luminescent smile.  “Drink, Kent.”

I take the first gulp, and my mouth starts burning.  I drop to my knees, clutching my belly, and the bowl clatters from my grasp.  Oh fuck…it tastes like unwashed assholes…

“What…what…”  I can’t speak; I’m coughing too hard.

The lady on the throne begins shifting and changing.  Fuck me in the goat-ass:  it’s Grammar Nazi Prime.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, momentarily concealing his beady little pupils with a flash of light off the flats of his lenses.  A malevolent smile widens his chinless, testosterone-free face.

“How does it taste, Kent?  A red-ink brew, made specifically for you.”

“Red…ink?”  I gaze at the contents of the bowl I just drank from, now scattered across the floor.

It wasn’t Beauty.  FUCK.

It’s essay correction ink.  Red as the balls on a ninth-ring demon.

“You…you…”  My  vision starts hazing.  I collapse onto my side, gasping in shuddering, wheezing hitches.  Through the blur of my tears, I can see him smiling.

I’m about to die.  So I reach in my pocket and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.


Soccer Mom Prime materializes in a blast of swirling blue halos, hovering a few inches above the ground.  She throws her head back; the joy of her physical emergence shows in her semi-orgasmic expression—in the barely audible moan that escapes her lips.

Her form solidifies.  Long, sleek hair dances around her shoulders, set aflutter by the intensity of her arrival.  A gleam runs across her Elven-steampunk armor, locking it firmly into place with blinding twinkles.  She glances at me, raises her hand, and utters a single, resonant phrase:

“As you were, Man Whore.”

Magic swirls out from her open palm, weaving and lashing into brilliant tendrils.  They surround me in a network of elegant, sweeping slashes.  In a few seconds…

Holy Shamoley!  I’m CURED!

SMP assesses me with a flick of her eyes, nods, then strides toward Grammar Nazi Prime.

“No!”  His eyes widen.  “Stay BACK!”

“You who would suppress the creative impulse, the sacred grace that is woven through our being…”  Her voice rises in pitch, shaking the aether with its sonorous boom.  “You who would persecute the Conduit known as Kent, and deprive the world of his ineffable genitals, the three-time award winning Cock of Legend…”

“Stay back!” he howls.  “STAY BACK!”

“I.  CAST.  YOU.  OUT!”  She crosses both arms to her chest, then leans forward and slashes them out to either side.  An undulant, glowing wave erupts from the gesture and ripples toward the Grammar Nazi.  When it makes contact, he flies apart into an ugly mess of red-and-black twists.  Before he disappears, he manages an anguished, protracted cry:


And then he’s gone.  There’s a long, hanging silence.

“Uh…so what next?” I ask SMP.

She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.  “Come on Kent—I didn’t save the ‘Cock of Legend’ just for kicks.  Unzip your pants—lemme see that sausage.”

You can imagine the rest.  Needless to say, the Cock of Legend had a grand old time.



Have you been fooled into drinking the disgusting essence of nitnoy Grammar?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Vol.4 on Kindle here:  Vol. 4 on Kindle  Echo Omnibus here:  Echo Omnibus  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  Musings, Volume 1 is available here:  Musings, Volume 1  If you wanna hear me babble on about anything and everything, and strain my FREAKIN’ BRAIN, then here’s a link to my podcast:  Strained Brains!  It is on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and Google Play!  Please give it a listen and a five-star review!  Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human:  Optimization, and last but not least, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at!  Go check out his computer-based wizardry  🙂 🙂 😀

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  😲💪 😜

20 thoughts on “Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

  1.  “A disembodied voice rings through my skull; it sounds like an electronic harp combined with an angelic choir.”

    Great description!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s