Beer

Cookmate took a sip of his water and winced. It was getting warm already, which brought out the alkali taste even worse. He forced the rest of the cup down, grimacing with disgust.

There was only so much the recycler could do. It made sure that the water didn't poison them (betyond givign them the runs until they were used to it), but the water was always going to taste of soap for as long as they stayed on Mars.

John M. Burt Writes

Not often enough, and I also don't make enough of an effort to sell it, but maybe this blog will help me do better at it.

I will post stories in progress here. I will revise them when and as I can bring myself to do it. Only the latest draft will be visible here. Feel free to comment on any story posted here.

When I think a story is ready to offer to a paying market, I will delete the draft. I'll also post about my efforts to get published. Feel free to commiserate and/or congratulate as indicated.

And please hold me in the Light.