K. Ibura

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K. Ibura is a writer, painter, and traveler from New Orleans, Louisiana. The middle child of five, she grew up in a hardscrabble neighborhood with oak and fig trees, locusts and mosquitoes, cousins and neighbors. K. Ibura's work delves into spheres of human liberation, human connection, and evolution. She employs speculative fiction and creative nonfiction to take readers through mind-bending journeys into the transcendent, the mystical, and the fantastic.

Fiction

Speculative Fiction

Hemmie’s Calenture

“Come here.” Those two rustling words reverberated through Hemmie’s her dream, halting the cane leaves whipping in the wind over her and Nenah’s heads. She opened her eyes, shot up to sitting, and looked around the room. It was dark and empty. She fell back onto the mattress, threw a pillow over her face, and… »

Excerpt Speculative Fiction

Because of the Boneman

The rocks loved the touch of air on their sharp points. With the season of wet winds past and the mugginess swept away, the air was full of a delicious coolness that the rocks loved to bathe in. But a man—long and gangly—had draped himself over them, pressing his limbs into their gaps. They hated… »

Speculative Fiction

Volcano Woman

He creeps up on me, quiet-like. A funky whisky scent invades me. “Hey, cutie.” He stands close. His scabs and scars make my skin crawl. When I take a step back, he scowls. “Why you actin scared, I jus wan talk to you. Maybe take you to a hotel.” One jittery look around shows me… »

Speculative FictionForeign Land // Otherworldy // Yearning

Of Wings, Nectar, & Ancestors

1 On deep purple-black nights, when the whole house has pushed itself into slumber, WaLiLa’s energy flits around her room like a moth. It leaps up to do jumping jacks & turns cartwheels, then clings to the ceiling. It bounces off the walls & jiggles its knees impatiently. WaLiLa is a jitterbugging ball of need… »

Speculative FictionDanger // Otherworldy // Touched by a Stranger

At Life’s Limits

1. Musicians, practicing an age-old tradition, scatter syncopated rhythms across the night sky. Through rapid hand movements and homemade instruments, they pay homage to fierce gods. The music tattoos the sky’s surface with patterns of prayer, patterns that transform themselves into welcome mats for beings in realms the musicians have no knowledge of. One such… »

Speculative FictionAuthority // Futurisms // Otherworldy

Ferret

The ferret’s claws clicked echoes into the silence. I wanted to scream out. Instead I listened to the rasp of grandfather scratching his chin. Everyone’s gaze followed the ferret as it scurried around the compass, but I turned away. Without looking I knew the ferret would be running in dizzying circles. The dull thunk of… »

Media Podcast Speculative FictionForeign Land // Loss // Otherworldy

Debris

It is legend how my mother kept my grandmother’s eye sockets clean with the pure white feather of a cockatoo. She often sent me to the forests to pick marigolds to stack high around Grandmother’s skull. Grandmother loved the smell of the marigolds. She told me so every time I entered the house with an… »

Speculative FictionDanger // Futurisms // Loss

Bio-Anger

rattling. rattling snaking around in my ears. echoes of rattling erupting in my temples. I hear a pop like the little explosions of air that punctuate my ear canals when I’m nearing the ocean floor. reflex. by reflex, I try to turn toward the sound, but my head is tethered in one position. the rattling… »