Vandana Singh

“One day I dreamed I was the light falling off the edge of a leaf, nice and straight, but for the lacy diffraction at the edge. At night I flew into the clouds, to the well of stars, and became a piece of the void, a bit of dark velvet stitched on to the sky. In the afternoon I am just an old woman dozing in the sun with a yellow dog sitting beside her, wondering about stars, worried about the universes. If I could be the tap of your shoe, the glance out of the corner of your eye when you see that man or this woman, if I could be the curled lip of the snarling arboril, or a mote in the eye of a dog. What would I be, if I were to be any of this? I am myself and yet not so. I contain multitudes and am a part of something larger; I am a cell the size of a planet, swimming in the void of the night.”
― Vandana Singh, Ambiguity Machines and Other Stories

“The thoughts you think on land, the old man said, are different from what you think with the sea. In the sea you learn to think with the water, the fish. That’s why people who make decisions on land, separated from the world by glass and concrete, air-conditioning and software, have such terrible ideas for the world.”
― Vandana Singh, Current Futures: A Sci-Fi Ocean Anthology