Fantasy and Science Fiction by Authors of Color
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Fantasy and Science Fiction by Authors of Color
Online fiction in the fantasy, horror and science fiction genres written by authors of color.
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What Everyone Remembers by Rahul Kanakia - Clarkesworld Magazine

What Everyone Remembers by Rahul Kanakia - Clarkesworld Magazine | Fantasy and Science Fiction by Authors of Color | Scoop.it
But maman frightened me. When I emerged from the mattress, she would sometimes grab me, pinch my useless wings and interrogate me in front of bright lights. She'd put me in her nest of tubing and plastic cupboards and order me to run from one place to another as quick as I could. She would touch delicate golden wires to my various legs and my body would dance with strange impulses.
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Pataki (Part 1 of 2), by Nisi Shawl

Pataki (Part 1 of 2), by Nisi Shawl | Fantasy and Science Fiction by Authors of Color | Scoop.it

"What do you ask of the shells?"

"Justice." The child spoke firmly.

Rianne nodded. Shinel was her client, her first client in Oakland. Too young, but the only serious one since she'd moved here.

All her life Rianne had felt an affinity for children, had understood them, understood their language. Children had been her work, the work she had loved. Which had only made the accusations harder to bear. She'd avoided children even after the end of her "administrative leave" from state services. For over a year.

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Doctor Diablo Goes Through the Motions, by Saladin Ahmed

Doctor Diablo Goes Through the Motions, by Saladin Ahmed | Fantasy and Science Fiction by Authors of Color | Scoop.it

So here I am again, sitting at a twelve-person steel table, going through the motions. The Society of Supercriminals' new headquarters is impressive but not comfortable. You'd think that Overlord, with his ill-gotten dictator-industrialist billions, could afford some padding for these damn chairs. But as my Tío Cesar would say, assholes never shit flowers.

We've been at the table a long time, Overlord assigning minor miscreantish jobs to the Society's members. He's clearly building to some criminal crescendo, and I wish he'd just get to it. I squirm audibly in my seat and I can practically hear him frown behind that grotesque silver mask. There's a longstanding if covert debate among my associates as to whether the big O wears the mask because he's horribly scarred or whether he just has a kink for such things. Either way, over the course of a meeting, dude's heavy breathing goes from annoying to gut-deep creepy.

My attention is drifting. I force myself to focus on our self-appointed leader's metal-echoed words.

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