Salt
She rose, a surging shadow, glowering. The rust-coloured tinge unfurling across the horizon signalled the disappearing sun. Damian didn’t know what shocked him more, the inordinate eclipse of her presence or the sudden rage of the sea.
Don’t sleep on Caribbean Fantasy and Science Fiction: Caribbean Futurism (A Reflection on 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚, 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑟𝑒, 𝑅𝑒𝘵𝑢𝑟𝑛)
My current reading is not by design but it’s a good jumping off point for reflection on how spec fic, or Caribbean futurism, is in many ways the type of fiction we need when the world is at its most volatile or uncertain.
She Who Has Found Herself
Sitting straight-backed on a cluster of smooth rocks, not too far from Jonita, was a breadnut-brown woman with a sprawling afro enclosed in a circle of plaits decorated with iridescent shells at the base, and a lush body with a waist that curved into…