The dust hissed with the first rain drops. Sam watched the darkening earth from beneath the bridge which had been his home for weeks, feeling
“I feel so safe when I’m with you, Carl. It’s like there’s no better place for me on earth, or even in Heaven!” Sam pointed
“So you want me to fly with you to the Cemagi desert and solve the Myra assassination on my own? That’s kind of a tall order.” The blonde had her arms around my waist and her head on my shoulder. I sighed.
Long-time readers here will know that the Parlando Project has been performing a section of T. S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” each year to celebrate
There exists, for everyone, a sentence – a series of words – that has the power to destroy you. Another sentence exists, another series of
JK Rowling’s June 10th essay. She wants to have the intellectual freedom to support Maya Forstater, and says that it’s wrong that the judge upheld