The evenings are black and the mornings cold and grey. The only way forward is through it.

The collection exclusively featured images of mayhem and disaster.

She was his truth, his bellwether and moral compass. Without her he was lost, but also he was just plain lost.

Imaginative acts were denounced as vectors of postcolonial oppression.

For years I proceeded as if my activity had significance—a toddler solemnly pretend-working with blocks.

When someone says, ‘People either love me or they hate me,’ it’s usually the latter.

He didn’t want to be that guy who didn’t want to be that guy.

This incarnation wasn’t in the cards.

The personal quirks you’d hoped were endearing turn out to be profoundly irritating to the people around you.

My old friend appeared at the door. He had always been, if not vain, fastidious in his presentation. Now he was only partly shaven, with his shirt worn inside out. “Rand,” he whispered, “Thank God.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so exhausted. He dragged his fingers through his long greying hair and waved me in. The apartment was nearly bare, with a recliner parked in its center—the site of his long, lonely vigil.

Shitting on a tablecloth, expecting it to sort itself into a menu and an eight course meal.