Kate Ryan

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

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

Hollywood continues to flounder in a dick-sucking frenzy of self-congratulatory white male directors, writers, and producers.

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

I have no choice but to start all over again, tomorrow or not at all.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.