Kate Ryan

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

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

She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

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.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

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

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.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

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