Kate Ryan

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

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

A bloated mother in her polka dot one-piece gnaws on a corndog while reading the romantic pulp she picked up on her way out of the supermarket . . .

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

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

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…

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

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

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.