Kate Ryan

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

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

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

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.

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

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.

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