M. Krishnan

Sep 16, 2024 | dialnet.unirioja.es | M. Krishnan |Sharon Sharmini |M. Raadha

IdiomacatalàDeutschEnglishespañoleuskarafrançaisgalegoitalianoportuguêsromână

Jan 9, 2024 | strangehorizons.com | Nancy Moore |Kevin J Fellows |M. Krishnan |Rachel Cordasco

I’m told the Moon’s gravity isone-sixth of that here on Earth. Imagine time spent in a placewhere there’s so little resistance. I could do a grand-jeté thereeven though I flunked out of ballet. Or maybe a jump kick to the headsince I prefer fighting to dance. Wouldn’t matter that the cartilage is gone. My knees wouldn’t hurt on the Moon. And falls wouldn’t do any damageif my bones grow brittle and thin. No one yet lives on the Moon. Scientists are focused on Mars.

Jan 9, 2024 | strangehorizons.com | Kevin J Fellows |Nancy Jane Moore |M. Krishnan |Rachel Cordasco

I could do a grand-jete there / even though I flunked out of ballet. Once there lived a princess who was a girl, a corpse, a slippery amphibial nymph. She was tucked within several lives, each life pleating and creasing into silken layers of woe. But for our purposes, we will restrain ourselves to one of those lives. Maybe even two. Her name was Marakatam, but it was not the name she was born with. It was a name she was bequeathed, and this was how it happened.

Jan 9, 2024 | strangehorizons.com | Rachel Cordasco |Kevin J Fellows |Nancy Moore |M. Krishnan

The protagonist of Sarena Ulibarri’s Another Life is Galicia Aguirre, the mediator/leader of a Death Valley utopian community called “Otra Vida,” where residents live, work, and eat together in a utopian vision of sustainable energy and brotherly love. In this world, a failed plan to transplant humans to another, cleaner planet somehow led to worldwide collapse and the rearrangement of national borders, as well as another civil war in the United States.

Jan 9, 2024 | strangehorizons.com | M. Krishnan |Elle Engel |Jessy Randall |Archita Mittra

I. Marakatam, or the End of Her BeginningOnce there lived a princess who was a girl, a corpse, a slippery amphibial nymph. She was tucked within several lives, each life pleating and creasing into silken layers of woe. But for our purposes, we will restrain ourselves to one of those lives. Maybe even two. Her name was Marakatam, but it was not the name she was born with. It was a name she was bequeathed, and this was how it happened.