an introduction to the Caribbean SFF Special Issue
an introduction to the Caribbean SFF Special Issue
You’d hung suspended between living and unliving when the pastor spewed vitriol off the pulpit against people like you.
“Dónde estámos?” Mateo asks, wiping the wetness out of his hair. We’re both sopping wet. Charcos may get you there fast, but it’s not the cleanest way to travel.
The open sea seemed empty since forever, even if the holomaps and nanocompasses indicated the presence of the continent over there, behind the last waves.
Another escape pod of a stellar wreck. Different, older, but human-made, of an unusual yellow color. Its thrusters were working and it was closing in on yours.
I tellin’ all yuh the queen must be alien or something not of this earth, because in 1966 she come and visit Trinidad when I was just a schoolgirl
by then I was growing spines in the places where love used to touch me, trying to pull them out slowly
My fin cuts through the bioluminescent memories as I bring the mortal freedom seekers to a place of refuge.
can an island have ptsd? maybe then, every earthquake is just the land remembering
He pulled the slingshot taut, watched the stone fly.
a reading practice that offers a reorientation, a way for us to read African and African diaspora artists with and through each other—our cultures, philosophies, epistemologies—without the need to reference European ones
