>BLACK FUTURE: BOOK ONE BY WHITNEY RYAN
>Alex labored up the mountainside. His charcoal-black hunting cloak flapped in the late afternoon breeze. His eyes were two slits, glaring beneath the shadow beneath the shadow of his hood. of his hood. Through familiar trails he Through familiar trails he trudged, his legs trudged, his legs burning burning as the terrain terrain steepened, steepened, carrying carrying a pair of plump rabbits rabbits freshly freshly retrieved from his traps. Subsistence living must have been hard enough, Alex thought, in the pre-war days. But to do it now, stripped of manhood, bereft bereft of testosterone, testosterone, addled with government-issued government-issued hormones? hormones? It was humiliating.
>Such was life in New Africa.
>Alex arrived at his log cabin, tucked away at the edge of a small village. It overlooked a panorama of peaks: a stretch of glorious mountainous terrain which, only ten years prior, had been part of the state of Georgia. Those days seemed like a half-remembered dream: hazy, idealized, unreal.
>Alex stopped at the doorway and looked back over the winding trails he’d climbed, over the mountains of his youth. It was a beautiful day. The late summer’s air was warm and filled with golden sunshine. Broad-tailed hawks lazily patrolled the sky. Alex hated beautiful days; they tempted him into the seductive trap of hope. And ever since the revolution, Alex had learned one thing with total certainty: a whiteboi must never, ever, ever dare to hope.
No the writer is a literal troon
yes chud, someone wrote an entire 20,000 word book 6 years ago about blacks rising up and sysyematically murdering and raping white people as a joke.
hwabar (he will always be a rainbow)