The apocalypse is one phone call, one siren, one descending vapor trail or mushroom cloud away. I am terrified by that simple fact. I am also fascinated by it.
Today we can confirm the final shape of the new fiction editing team.
and what of Tycho? Every orbit / an ellipse and one of two centers flaringly bright.
Once, we knew more stories than there were stars to follow and admire at night. We wrote them in the desert for fun. What we have lost since that time is immeasurable.
