Put up two more short stories. Both are vaguely sci-fi and feature solar panels. Figures, given the soul-searing heat of the last week.
Uploaded – The old man sat and watched the day wane. He knew he was dying. He could barely climb the rickety steps of the brownstone, breathless and shaking. He could feel the press of gravity in his bones. The door to the balcony was beyond his strength.
The Sheikh of Ma’aJannah – He looked to the south, into the deep Gulf. The sun warmed the flat solar sheets on the gentle sea, long strips of metal and white. He breathed in the moist air, fighting back a nauseous urge, the weakness in his knees. Then into scene of the murder.
As always, comments are appreciated. Something feels missing with these two stories but I can’t quite put my finger on it