When the ships become water nymphs

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Poetry It isn’t small – a medium size female and no plaything. To reduce, make diminutive as panting with heat, potential of storms, build up to cross any human space...

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A freer state of being

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Trip Advisor review of a protest

Poetry Firstly, what’s with all the footwork? A downward slope would be an attribute. There’s enough gory fundamentalism without toe jam. On that note, can...

FictionMarty was my algorithm. He told me which internet plan to get. He researched the best conductive wall heater. He chose my clothes every night for the next day. He gave me a list of where I could go on my lunchbreak. Sometimes his decisions were arbitrary, or mysterious to me. But I did not care. It was, yes, like being a child again. And maybe Rachel was right; maybe there was something to that, something deep in my psyche. But all desire came from that deep, dark place of infancy. Your leather penchant is my life-coach-boyfriend-boss. None of us can take the high road here.