Kate Ryan
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Kate Ryan Articles
She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.
Read...Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.
Read...“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.
Read...The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.
Read...He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.
Read...The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.
Read...Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.
Read...She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.
Read...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 . . .
Read...I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.
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