P.S. Don’t forget to check out Atomjack, our new SF magazine. Coming soon.

Sincerely,
     Stephen King once wrote a short story featuring a traveling salesman who kept a notebook. In this notebook, he would document the interesting and noteworthy things he found written on bathroom walls. I related to this character a lot, because I’ve traveled on long car trips and wondered about bathroom graffiti for as long as I can remember.
     Picture this: The other day, I enter a bathroom stall in a public restroom. There’s the usual taboo stuff (What does the stuff written on bathroom walls say about our sanity, as a culture?). Requests for young girls (age 14-17) or older women (age 50+) to call a phone number at midnight if they’re interested in performing explicit actions, etc.
     Underneath were two words.
     "White Flower."
     I wasn’t sure what to think about it. It wasn’t an autograph written using a funky alphabet and a black marker, it was a simple phrase carved into the side of the stall. I looked closer: the second word was scratched and carved significantly more than the first. It had been altered.

     It was graffitied graffiti.

It had originally said “White Power”. Someone made a “P” into an “H” and inserted an “L”. Someone had the spark of creativity that told them that if they rearranged things a little, it would confuse the hell out of people rather than offend them.
     Maybe the world isn’t such a bad place after all.

     So...
     This issue has two serial killer stories in it. We get tons of submissions about serial killers or vampires or people committing suicide. Most of them... Let's stay positive and say that we only publish the best that people send us. Here are two that shine. One’s "Captive" by Jennifer de Guzman. My assistant editor says that she knows Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Which explains a lot.
     Another’s "Six Ways from Sunday" by Ken Goldman, who has the longest list of publication credits I’ve ever seen. He’s either a great writer, or he’s good at making up the names of publications.
     We also have a story about people who trust a little too much to the luck of the draw -- "The Black Box" by Jim Stewart. I always want to do a themed issue, and he’s the reason this issue’s theme isn’t serial killers. I couldn’t bring myself to make you wait until next issue for it.

     We have our second poem ever, "Cobra in Full Bloom", by Mitchell Stone. The title is only the beginning. Trust me.

     And we have the first of what may be a regular section of interviews. This one’s with the folks at Press Start to Play. They do webcomics about video games. I asked my assistant editor, James Maddox, what exactly they have to do with fiction, and he probably made an argument. The interview’s good, nonetheless.

     Sheos is still ranting. He hasn’t been eating--he’s demanding kimchee or sushi, alternately. He can’t seem to figure out what country he’s in.

     I know what state he’s in.
     Anyway, I hope you enjoy the issue. Send us your rants, complaints, suggestions, fan mail, empty boxes, or horsefeathers. We may publish anything you send. I am fine. How are you?

Dear Reader,
Rev. Brian Worley

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