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    Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology
    Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology
    Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology
    Ebook103 pages50 minutes

    Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology

    By Julia Rios, José Pablo Iriarte, Julie M. Rodriguez and

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    About this ebook

    Representation Matters.
    Fantastic Stories prides itself on being open to underrepresented voices. Science fiction and fantasy should encompass the totality of the human experience, in all of its diversity and complexity. Fantastic Stories is determined to explore a more inclusive, realistic vision of the future.
    People of color have been publishing some of the highest quality science fiction and fantasy since the genre's earliest days. Yet, there still persists a perception that science fiction and fantasy is somehow a white field. We'd like to help shatter that illusion and showcase some of the finest writer's that science fiction and fantasy has to offer. Here are twenty six flash stories that will do just that.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateApr 29, 2017
    ISBN9781515412311
    Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology

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      Book preview

      Fantastic Stories of the Imagination People of Color Flash Anthology - Julia Rios

      ©2017 Positronic Publishing

      Individual stories copyrighted by their authors

      All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except for brief quotations for review purposes only.

      ISBN 13: 978-1-5154-1231-1

      Table of Contents

      Stone Heart, by Julia Rios

      The Curse of Giants, by José Pablo Iriarte

      The Crater Maiden, by Julie M. Rodriguez

      Deathbed, by Caroline M. Yoachim

      Every Instance of You, by Cassandra Khaw

      The White Snake, by Laurie Tom

      First Ride of the Day, by Darcie Little Badger

      Ebb and Flow, by LaShawn M. Wanak

      Rainbows and Unicorns, by Malon Edwards

      The House at the End of the World, by Carmen Maria Machado

      Low-Carb Cheesecake, by Nicky Drayden

      Princesses, by Jeremy Sim

      My Grandmother’s Bones, by S.L. Huang

      The Buyout, by Ananyo Bhattacharya

      Broken-Winged Love, by Naru Dames Sundar

      Love in the Time of Alien Invasion, by Samuel Marzioli

      Once, in a Small Town, by Eliza Victoria

      A Different Mistake, by Eve Shi

      Accidental Queen of the Spiders, by Zina Hutton

      17 Amazing Plot Elements... When You See #11, You’ll Be Astounded!, by James Beamon

      Walls of Nigeria, by Jeremy Szal

      Six Things We Found During the Autopsy, by Kuzhali Manickavel

      Looking the Lopai in the Eyes, by Indrapramit Das

      The Chupacabra’s Charming Cuchifrito Café, Recommended Review, by Richie Narvaez

      Choices, in Sequential Order, by Karlo Yeager Rodríguez

      Strange Attractors, by S.B. Divya

      Stone Heart

      by Julia Rios

      There was a maiden who changed her heart for a stone. The how of it isn’t important; what matters is the why.

      It wasn’t because some man had broken it in the late summer after courting her falsely all spring. It wasn’t because of the baby she lost, or any of the ones she could never have after the doctors had cut her apart. It wasn’t because her husband stayed out in the arms of his paramour, who was more elegant, and younger.

      Those are all reasons men will give you if you ask them (and sometimes women, too). The maiden who traded her heart for a stone was strong enough to take all that and more. Most women really are. And yet, you say, how can we call her a maiden, then? If she was a lover, a wife, and a mother? How can we lie like that?

      But you wouldn’t say we were liars if you’d seen her that night, fierce and strong and glowing the brightness of eternal youth. She stood on the hill, under the moon and over the battlefield, and she vowed to shed no more tears. She had lost too many brothers to this war; she had lost her husband, who would go for a general; she had lost even that first betrayer, who’d married another and had seven sons.

      If there was naught but war to reward the sins and virtues of humanity, if there was naught but death and bloodshed left to those who survived childhood, heartbreak, illness, and chance, then there was no reason to keep that burden of flesh and feeling. That’s what she thought, and why she did it. She didn’t know that centuries later she would remain, all-seeing, all-knowing, and still mired in the terrible caring.

      One may change one’s heart for a stone, but emotion is not tied up in flesh, or if it is, then she knows that somewhere her first heart is still beating.

      Originally published in The Lorelei Signal, April 2012.

      The Curse of Giants

      by José Pablo Iriarte

      The curse of giants is to never fit in.

      At school the other kids try to make me lose control, because they know I’ll put on a show for them. They call me Dumbass Danny. They laugh when I lose my breath and can’t keep up at phys ed. They kick me when nobody’s looking. They don’t let me sit with them at lunch.

      I try to ignore them like the teachers tell me, but they keep going and eventually I give in and go on a rampage. I knock over chairs and tables, pull books off the shelves, kick the globe. Giant stuff.

      I think Danny’s acting out, the teacher tells my parents, later, when we’re all in the principal’s office. But why?

      I feel the walls closing in as everybody stares down at me, looking for answers. If I don’t get out soon, I will be crushed.

      The boy’s just never fit in, my father says. No reason for it.

      ~~~

      The curse of giants is to be clumsy.

      I try to walk lightly, make no noise, but I’m easily startled. I hear a TV switch off or a door close somewhere in the house and I jump. Things break when a giant jumps. Things like a glass of milk, lying on the floor now, tiny shards glinting like diamonds amid white liquid.

      Goddamnit boy! my father roars, and my stomach lurches. I throw myself into the cleanup and hope it’s enough.

      ~~~

      The curse of giants is to not know why.

      Mom winces when I ask if I was born this way, stupid and clumsy. She hugs me and kisses the top of my head and tells me there’s nothing wrong with me, but that’s obviously not true.

      She looks sad afterward, and I think about how painful it must be to give birth to a giant. That was a dumb question to ask. I’m sorry for making her unhappy, but I don’t know what to say to make it better, so I say nothing at all.

      Giants always make things worse when they open their mouths.

      ~~~

      The curse of giants is nothing works.

      I think maybe bigger clothes will help. I wear baggy things. I wear long sleeves. I always wear pants, never shorts. Even for phys ed, I never take off my clothes.

      I try to be small when I sit. I try to be

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