Kate Ryan

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

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

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…

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.

Is flagging potentially offensive material taking the PC movement too far?

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

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.

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.