By: Christian Bot Paper. Pen – or pencil, depending on what my tastes of the day dictate. A desk – amiably provided in the hotel room, middlebrow as it is. Now all that remains to be supplied is imagination –…
By: Christian Bot If there is anything meaningful to gain in the obsessive fandom of an English costume drama, it is surely to be found in the scenes of Highclere Manor, and in particular, in the personage of Ethel Spenser. It…
By: Jessica McCaughey BJ’s Books was the kind of dusty, well-stocked used bookstore you’d expect to find on a quaint city street, urban but with a clean sidewalk and trees. Perhaps the shop would sit just down a half-flight of steps,…
By: Alan Berger “I’m going to kill myself”, Rob said to himself. Rob stood by the subway tracks, waiting for the next train to send him to paradise, or Hell, or wherever the Hell you go when you do something…
By Amirah Al Wassif I love you despite everyone nose! despite the traffic jam despite the audience blame and the chatter of my toes I love you and I mean what I say a confession of love does not accept…
By Amirah Al Wassif far as the sky close as a wish we all those sailors who never caught their fish far as the sky close as a wish we think of the only question though our poor or our…
By: Christian My mind is aimless like a wandering arrow hurtled from an inexpert bow Or like an open fuse with no outlet to fulfill it, Hissing sparks indignantly against whatever stands ahead. My brain, despair besieging it, writhes in agony,…
By: Thomas Dexter Kerr It is an exciting and hopeful time to be alive. A revolution is sweeping the earth, increasing intelligence by allowing, enabling, inspiring ever more people to make more decisions in their lives. Modern systems that allow people…
Banter, a dating application aims to revolutionize the psychique of online dating and bring forth the culture of actual experiences with authentic users into existence. By the name Banter, the app implies the fun and frolic engagements and interactions between…
By: James Aitchison “The sanctity of the first uncorrected draft.” This, Jack Kerouac taught Allen Ginsberg. Well: weren’t they both daft? Not for Jack the careful fix, No, he wouldn’t need it; No moving finger canc’ling half a line; He’d…