Kate Ryan

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

"No self-respecting journalist or publication would ever hire someone who employs the word 'sh--' as a title for anything."

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.

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

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

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

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