On the 23rd of January 2020, a radio talk show of the future, 20:30 Bruxsels Talks, took place in Brussels. With fictional guests and artists from the year 2030, it discussed how the transition to a climate-proof city had happened since 2019. The body of this article is the script of this fiction piece, produced by BrusselAVenir and BNA-BBOT. In the introduction we explain the relationship between the field of futures studies and fiction, we frame 20:30 Bruxsels Talks within futures studies, and highlight the potential of fiction for knowledge creation and dissemination. By publishing the script, we hope to inspire researchers, changemakers and artists to explore fiction as a method, as a format and as a space, to trigger conversation and imagination, and engage citizens to take up a role in shaping the cities they live in. Note: This article should be read in conjunction with “20:30 Bruxsels Talks: Fiction as a Method, Fiction as a Format, Fiction as a Space,” written by the same author team and published in this issue.

On the 23rd of January 2020, a radio talk show of the future, 20:30 Bruxsels Talks, took place in Brussels. With guests and artists from the year 2030, it discussed how the transition to a climate-proof city had happened since 2019. In this article, we present and frame the development of the show and provide insight into the participative creation process. The radio show exemplifies (a) how future fiction can be used as a tool to evoke change and (b) how the participatory development of futurist fiction can be used as a method to trigger imagination and conversation on what citizens want for our cities. We argue that there is an opportunity for researchers to explore fiction as a method, as a format and as a space. Foresight practitioners who want to create engaging stories may find inspiration in the body of knowledge of arts-based research and the arts. Note: This article should be read in conjunction with 20:30 Bruxsels Talks: A Script for a Future Fiction Radio Show, in this issue, written by the same author team and published in this volume.

Early morning 7:00 a.m. I slam the alarm clock and pull the blanket over my head. Yet, another day in this never-ending lockdown story. "The last COVID-25 related lockdown," policy makers announced. Yeah, right! Nobody seems to know where this COVID-25 virus is heading. I stretch my arms and crawl out of bed. I take a short stroll to the mailbox, the only safe distance I am currently allowed to walk. Going through the post with a hot cup of coffee became one of the highlights in days of screen-based conversations with colleagues, students or research partners. A bright red envelope catches my eye. It has my name carefully written on the front, and is dated on April 6, 2121. Interesting… Would it…? Yes! A ticket for a three-day conference in the year 2121! Let's say, working congresses have just become a little more exciting now that they involve the possibility of time travel! On the agenda: "Pandemic preparedness." Would people in 2121 still struggle with COVID-25? Or perhaps they found out how to best relate to it, and would like to inform us? Anyway, the event is tomorrow (ninetysix years from now), so I should start preparing a bit. The Ride 6:00 a.m. in the morning. I follow the instructions from the conference organizers spelled out in the invitation letter and the adventure begins. The geo-location on the invitation leads me to a huge empty hangar in the middle of nowhere, 2 hours outside the city. A white vehicle parks in front of me. From the outside it does not look too different from a regular car, except for the fact that it hovers above the ground. It's a luxurious vehicle with extensive space for its

This review is a bricolage of nomadic encounters with Jorge Lucero and colleagues’ (2016) article on ways to engage with collaborative publishing. Lucero presents a Facebook discussion amongst practitioners denouncing the limited power of practitioners in shaping academic discourse. It shows how social media can serve as a platform for inviting the practitioner’s voice into research. The authors illustrate that by using Facebook, practitioners’ unfamiliarity and discomfort with academic standards can be bypassed. It demonstrates metalogue as a conceptual form of writing that disrupts the structure of conversations and challenges the authorial researchers’ voices. A critical note, however, is whether it is beneficial in the long term to consider the academic and social media parts as separate accounts. We argue that collaborative publishing requires collaborative research and writing in the first place. In response to the article, we started a WhatsApp conversation. This enabled us to reflect on the content of the article and experience the use of social media as a collaborative writing method ourselves.