I suspect that the editor of Mythaxis is feeling threatened, because two minutes after I actually sell a story somewhere else, bam, a fresh offer to publish one of my unsaleable pieces of science flash fiction appears in my in-box*. This time, enthusiastic readers can vote for their favourite story and win the author a book. I’ve always wanted a book.
I wonder what this mysterious Editor is like. I picture a Zeus-like figure, long white beard and piercing eyes. Or maybe just eye.
Anyway, submitted for your approval, a Christmas story about unassailable grief… that’s landing around Easter.
* In fact, my in-box just goes bing when I got mail. I only wish it went bam.