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Monday, September 17

Publish or Perish

"Publish or Perish"
Flash fiction
By Patricia J. Hale

I’ve had it. I can’t take it anymore.

Rejections. Damn editors. Think they’re God!

Well, they’re not.

I’m going to get this one. Samuel Nakadia. Sends me a snarky form letter with “can’t use your piece at the current time” bull. He can judge my work but can’t write a decent, original form letter? He doesn’t deserve to live.

I’m not kidding. I’m researching right now to get this blowhard’s address. Turns out he’s a real loner. House back in the woods. Doesn’t go out. Doesn’t answer the door.

Drove to his city. Didn’t diaper it though, stopped at rest areas.

Scoped out his place then came back to the motel to hatch my plan.

He’s not going to know what hit him! Literally. Ha. Ha.

Next day I park up the road, grab my weapon. Sneak down to his house. Find his back door open.

I walk in and look around. What a pack rat. Wow, throw something away now and then, Samuel.

He can’t see me over his stacks of crap, but I can hear him clicking keys in a back room.

I step up to the room and can see him. Doesn’t look that different from me. Same build, same black hair, his head down, peering though glasses at a laptop screen. Looks pretty out of shape and something tells me he’s got slow reflexes, too.

Time to go.

I run in and finish him off in one blow with the bat before he even looks up. He sinks down and falls to the floor.

I find myself staring at his computer screen. He was editing some slob’s work.

Leaning over, I read a few lines. Awful. So the mighty Samuel thought this was worthy?

Not a chance.

Now, where does Samuel keep those rejection letters?