Kate Ryan
Bio
Kate Ryan Articles
Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.
Read...My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.
Read...The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.
Read...She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.
Read...Writing simply does for me what long walks do for small dogs; it makes me tired and happy.
Read...At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.
Read...He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.
Read...Like booster engines emptied of fuel, my limbs become disposable, useless tanks as the blood rushes from them.
Read...“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.
Read...She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.
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