Kate Ryan

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.

"No self-respecting journalist or publication would ever hire someone who employs the word 'sh--' as a title for anything."

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

Everywhere you look these days (on Instagram), beautiful pictures abound. From teacups overflowing with succulents to smoothie bowls arranged as art. All while a lavender-haired model casually eats ice cream in front of a stupidly gorgeous Tahitian sunset. All this endless beauty has become a bit dull.

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

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

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.

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