Futures to Live By: A short story collection
Three evenings ago, we sat upon plump yellow cushions on the deck of the Dutch barge we shared, one boat amongst many others in our little commune upon the river. Together, we rode upon her bronchial tides, drifting upon the city’s heaving breath. The winter had been a bitter one; some of the river remained partially frozen even now. A small joy then, to stretch out on our deck, to relish the welcome warmth of spring, gifted by the departing sun before the night river rendered it too cold to sit outside.
Ruby leaned back on her elbows, her natural red hair a flaming cascade down her back, the evening breeze teasing the ends of her curls. Nearby, her cup of dandelion brew steamed, never far away from her slender fingers. Jefferson, our tuxedo cat, lounged between us, paws tucked under her body in a fluffy monochrome loaf. I perched cross-legged, nursing my own cup of brew in my hands, my jeans smudging blue stains upon the yellow cushion.
Some days, I couldn’t be sure which came first, our love for the river, our love for each other, or for the others in our lives. But what I did know: that love does not possess. That love is a choice, and every day, we choose each other.
There’s a word I’ve been looking for that doesn’t seem to exist yet – the antonym for ‘solastalgia’ – a word that could counter the meaning of distress due to environmental change in one’s locale, but also an antidote to the sense of defeatism.
To look for such a word isn’t a denial that these sentiments exist, but more that I believe in a genuine need to see past the challenges we are facing, and write to the types of futures where we succeed living in harmony with Nature, restore balance and adapt to human-made climate change, because without some kind of a map — even an imagined one — we’d allow ourselves to get lost. And time is of essence.
Speculative fiction has had a long history of giving itself a serious task: to seed warnings through dystopian cautionary tales that show how things can go wrong. Evidently, none of that has worked – to the extent we could argue these tales have been used as blueprints by an elite few, pushing our world to spiral ever faster into a polycrisis.
Without using our imaginations for futures that we could live in, we are denying ourselves the agency to take things down a different path. And I would like to think that we can examine these dark paths with a sense of joy that can buoy our spirits, to give us the energy to work through challenges together — as communities and not wait for a superhero to come along.
My stories in Futures to Live By are an addition to a growing and pioneering body of work by writers, artists, and storytellers all across the world who are exploring futures where we thrive alongside Nature, and in these stories, we examine alternative solutions to what we already have or scale up seeds of social or technological innovations that currently exist — or revisit ancient wisdoms.
Our lore has sometimes led us to believe that our lives are fated, and there are destined paths we should follow; but the truth is: a multitude of futures are possible. More than ever, we have a responsibility to forge new dreams, so that our grandchildren – and their grandchildren – can look forward to a world worth living in.
Futures to Live By is available as a paperback, individually numbered and signed hardbackeditions limited to just 50 copies and as an e-book across digital platforms.