Sheeny lives in a world scoured clean by the glass wind that comes roaring out of the empty space where a mountain used to be. A wind whose gusts can strip flesh from bone and whose breezes leave a dust of glass so fine it accumulates in the lungs with every sip of air. Delpha lives in an otherwhere, an otherwhen in which no glass wind blows. Her world is poised on the precipice of its reality, needing only the faintest push to fall. And if that should happen, there will be no picking up the pieces. Two women, two worlds, rush toward a shattering collision. Unless . . .
Nalo Hopkinson is a Jamaican-born writer and editor who lives in Canada. Her science fiction and fantasy novels and short stories often draw on Caribbean history and language, and its traditions of oral and written storytelling.
In a surreal and frightening future, where children are entertained individually by hand held entertainment screens on which they can find and be told any story they imagine, storms of ice-glass scour the world clean of life, hope, and colour. They say that to get a piece of the glass in you is to have that piece of you forever frozen. The thick white bone above the mantle reminds us of the cow our family once had, skeletonized and bleached in one storm long ago.
This is my first book by Jamaican-Canadian writer Nalo Hopkinson. She was recommended to me when I asked friends for some horror and speculative fiction authors who weren't white, hetero males, like they all seemed to be. This imperfect story reaches higher than it ascends, but I believe from what I read here that if I read more by this author, I would quickly find something that reaches or exceeds the potential for which this story strives. I found this story in a collection called Skin Folk, and I will read more. It can also be found online as an ebook.