In this issue: the familiar takes a turn in an Irish poem, a story of colour and climate change from Italian, & dust falls like snow, in a story from Romanian.
Out there, in the darkness, a huge invisible animal stretched, expanding, taking possession of the air, the water, the fragile rock structure. A sudden blow, like the breath that extinguishes a candle, and stillness stopped every sound. Olì no longer heard the gentle lapping of the sea downstairs, the tinkling of the metal ropes that anchored the pier, the fluttering of the flag with the Quattro Mori on top of the corroded antenna.
Là fuori, nel buio, un gigantesco animale invisibile si stiracchiò, si allargò, prese possesso dell’aria, dell’acqua, della fragile struttura degli scogli. Un soffio repentino, come il fiato emesso di colpo per spegnere una candela, e l’immobilità fermò ogni suono. Olì non sentiva più lo sciabordio delicato del mare al piano di sotto, il tintinnio delle funi metalliche che ancoravano il pontile, lo sventolare diseguale della bandiera coi quattro mori in cima all’antenna corrosa.
There are people who await their ending, in their own beds, ready for the dust to sneak into their rooms and pantries, bedrooms and basements, to lie upon the old blankets, to fill their nostrils, to clog their lungs; to die of suffocation. But there are others, diligent people, who fight against the sky’s will, who put cars and machines to work and gather the unstoppable ash.
Sunt oameni care-și așteaptă finalul nestingheriți, în patul lor, așteaptă ca praful să se strecoare în camere și cămări, dormitoare sau beciuri, să se așeze peste păturile lor învechite de vreme și de nevoi, să le astupe nările, să li se-năclăiască plămânii, să moară sufocați. Dar mai sunt alții, suflete destoinice, care luptă cu voia cerului, care mobilizează mașini și utilaje, care adună cenușa ce cade fără oprire.
The neon digits read [01:37] / when a buzzing hum shakes me / awake, deep as the bass thrum of nightclubs / that once bucked behind my breastbone
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Clelia Farris's "A Day to Remember | Un giorno da ricordare."
In this episode of the Samovar podcast, Danila Cannamela presents Clelia Farris's "Un Giorno da Ricordare" in Italian.
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Florin Purluca's "Dust | Praf."
In this episode of the Samovar podcast, Florin Purluca reads his story "Praf," in Romanian.
I’d really like to invite all SF readers to explore—at least every once in a while—what’s behind the big, shiny billboards of big industry titles. I’ve done it myself and I’ve found there are a lot of wonderful, refreshing stories coming from unexpected sources.
10-12 November 2017 Over the past three years I’ve scouted out and published many Science Fiction stories from around the world. Through the independent small press Future Fiction, I’ve published more than 60 stories translated from English, French, Spanish, Portuguese and Chinese. China has been particularly striking in recent years, with two authors – Liu Cixin (刘慈欣) and Hao Jinfang (郝景芳) – winning the 2015 Hugo Award for Best Novel (The Three Body Problem 三体) and the 2016 Hugo Award for Best Novelette (Folding Beijing 北京折叠), both translated by Ken Liu. And yet, I would have never thought of being invited by
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Maria Haskins's "The Gates of Balawat." We published the text in our Fall Issue, and are happy to now add the podcast!
In this Swedish language episode of the Samovar podcast, Maria Haskins presents her short story, "Balawats Portar." We published the text in our Fall Issue, and are happy to now add the podcast!
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Anaea Lay presents Stamatis Stamatopoulos's "The Colour that Defines Me." We published the text in our Fall Issue, and are happy to now add the podcast!
