I hate these affairs”, he’d told her once, tearing up an engraved invitation to an exclusive charity ball. “They’re the worst kind of discrimination. An invitation doesn’t really mean that you’re invited; it means that...

I have survived. I am here. Confused, screwed up, but here. So, how can I find my way? Is there a chain saw of the soul, an ax I can take to my memories or...

How can you fall in love at first sight when you can’t even see?