Science Fiction

Bald New World by Peter Tieryas Liu

By Peter Tieryas Liu

What should you awakened one morning and everybody on the planet misplaced their hair?

In Bald New World, that very occasion occurs and in a single day, faith, politics, and type suffer dramatic shifts. Nick Guan and his good friend Larry Chao are a couple of eccentric filmmakers who decide to discover the existential angst in their balding international via cinema. Larry is inheritor to 1 of the main profitable wig businesses on the earth. Nick is a guy who's attempting to make experience of the tatters of his American Dream. happening all through China and the US, the pair trigger on a sequence of misadventures concerning North Korean spies, veterans of an African conflict, and electronic cricket warring parties. Their trip leads them to find many of the darkest secrets and techniques at the back of wig-making and hair in a hairless international.

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Meals are at seven in the evening and five-thirty in the morning. " He lingered at the doorway, shuffling his huge, bucket feet. "Thank ye, Jake," Tohm said, reclining wearily on the bunk. Still Jake did not move. He wiped his left foot back and forth through the thin coat of dust that covered the floor plates. " Tohm asked at length. " "Ye see, I know what kinda conkeebine they's going to pick, them others. She's going to be tiny and delicate舒awful pretty, mind ye舒but awful tiny and terrible awful delicate.

There were few clouds, and those were the fluffy yellow-white mists at high elevation, chunks of diluted whipped cream that had gone sour. The blue sky was much like that of his home world, as constant in its shade as a dyed cloth, marred in its bland perfection only by the sun as it yawned to begin its day, tinting the blue with amber. Scrub grass tangled across the earth, a brown and shaggy carpet. It abruptly choked off the road at its precious entry point to the once-city. Now there was grass舒undisturbed.

Scrub grass tangled across the earth, a brown and shaggy carpet. It abruptly choked off the road at its precious entry point to the once-city. Now there was grass舒undisturbed. Tohm stood, looked about. He walked to the bluffs that overlooked the sea, choosing not to fly, in this hour of unexplainable defeat, like a giddy bird. He had lived next to the sea all of his life and looked to it as a living thing, not merely a dead, soulless pond. One spoke to the sea, and the sea spoke back. Not in precise syllables, mind you, not in grammatic clarity, but it spoke just the same.

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