Kate Ryan

Alma couldn’t understand why her Yelp reviews were so dismal. She didn’t advertise herself as a magician. She was a hair stylist.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.

I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

For all of you crazy people that think going to Target is ever a good idea during the holiday season, this is a list on how to survive a shopping trip to Target is for you…

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.