Reading SF classics can be a challenge when you’re… I’d concatenate vowels but “not a cis Caucasian male” is simpler. Progress since the 1926 birth of the dedicated SF venue notwithstanding, such readings require prior adjustments to one’s mindset.
I agree with a directive from MacArthur Grant-winning novelist Gish Jen: “Let your characters be people who express themselves in action.”
Julia's hands only tremble a little as she untangles the wire leads of the illicit memory-sharing device. That's to be expected, she rationalizes to herself, when connecting one's brain directly to an untested experimental technology in a dim, cramped living room of a one-bedroom apartment...
That summer evening in the garden of her ancestors when Pamoda Nostrei Dontárnio slid the ancient sword from its sheath, she heard a voice: Don’t be an idiot, Pamo.
Karl sat at an uncomfortably expensive table, across from a grieving middle-aged couple who were slowly, silently processing his sales pitch.
Some of us have been seeing ghosts in the halls of the Hummingbird. I saw one myself. In fact, I saw myself.
The man with only a mouth takes the seat next to Melissa, even though the star liner’s passenger deck is otherwise empty. She remains silent, waiting for the man to speak as she processes how best to discard the last year of her life, the one she lived on a world she’ll likely never step foot on again.
Crushing gravity Extinguishing life Consuming all light Death of stars
My eyes red lasering half wings soaring heavenward to these threaded grey skies
twixt the midnight skies, a lone soul dares to tread