Kate Ryan

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

He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

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

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

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

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

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 . . .

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.

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…