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ISSUE 14: CONTRIBUTORS
Derek Anderson, Christian Monson, Daniel McKay, Elijah Petty, Amy Collini, J. Check, Chloé Agar, S. Qiouyi Lu, Kate Shannon, Archita Mittra, Rachel Rodman, Josh Pearce, Jennifer Crow, Pia Bhatia, Prashanth Gopalan & Anthony Perconti
this is a blank spot / on a map of blank spots / labeled, “here there be”
On the TV, you want to watch those
Richard Linklater movies, our answer to sex…
Here in the old / Enchantments / you can find remnants / of her still, / her smile a ragged / and torn tarn shore, / her perfume / the come-gone scent / of slapdash rain.
Singh’s stories in this collection present a new way of articulating planetarity and narrating the cosmos and map out a new terrain of science fictionality. She incorporates the fantastic, the magical and the wondrous to create a mythopoetic engagement with the cosmos.
Edited by Tarun K. Saint and Francesco Verso, Avatar is a good exhibition of India’s burgeoning science fiction writing community.
Iona Datt Sharma’s Not For Use in Navigation is a mélange of earthy magic, queer protagonists, love stories involving sentient spaceships, fables in the distant future, and much else.
In my heart, I wanted to be better, more patient, more adequate. Grandma had hurt me many times in the past. She never had a good thing to say, and her criticism went from fat and ugly to selfish and useless. When I was younger, she would say both that I was heartless and that I was kind to the point of stupidity, and she would laugh whenever I felt pain, saying my mother spoiled me rotten.
Standing there in the shadow of the building with the entire town’s held breath in her hand, she knew they’d suffer if she went through. That somehow, their lives were wrapped up in or… antithetical to the existence of the haunted castle.
She and I are alive, along with half the city’s sorcerers. The enemy fleet has entirely vanished, together with every male sorcerer in Flowers and Summer. The day is ours, but at what cost?
The koala was not always an endangered species. Their fingerprints are so indistinguishable from humans that they were, on occasion, confused at a crime scene.
For me, the grim realities of flight did not negate The Little Prince— / instead, I became more certain / that everything Saint-Exupéry said was true: / that same sincere voice, that never-lost child’s wonder / at being alive.
Our loft starship, tear-shaped pod of night, / Glows inward with familial joy, / A hearth of laughter, warm, bright— / Hearts leap across deep space…
Do not ask who did this to her, / who shattered her to her core. // Do not ask what she remembers / of the larger self she’s lost.
Forget he held me in his arms / before our burnt bones shared an urn. // Forget the past and let us rest. / Step up. Bow. Take your own turn.
Life / goes on. // The cats still demand their food, / the garbage trucks still rumble by, / your throat still craves cold liquids.