Dear Dad, Having studied philosophy and undergone the dismal perils of the bleak English literary canon at university, I have - with...

On my third day in a row of a 9-hour shift at the checkouts, I felt like a robot. It left me wondering, would a robot be being doing this...

What is a foundation? Large, bare, and unremarkable: it is a promise. What is here now may look uninteresting and devoid of any detail,...

Dear anyone who may need this, A hollowness lingers like a huge lead ball in your stomach, molten and burning and yet entirely cold....

Where to start with Memoirs of a Geisha? Published in 1997, it was written by Arthur Golden, a born-and-bred American and not, in fact, a...

IN THE ALMEIDA THEATRE: Where Venice meets Vegas and Glamour meets Reality. Rupert Goold’s modern adaptation of The Merchant of Venice ...

Amidst an open silent field there was a room made entirely of glass. A warm soft light rippled through the windows as swallows dived and...

Chapter 1: White Cards, Blurred Lines Embellishment | Lie Deception | Self-deception Self-perception | Perception of the self These words...

Swallows carve the sky in cascading waves, Whilst flickering eyes follow hay-dust specks That dance in honeyed May-day heat. In an...

I look down upon a leaden lane, a cold stone road, our urban thoroughfare. Besieged worse yet by brackish towering buildings, it seemed...

A life in a year of blushed cheeks rouged with complexity, We glow in our agedness like old Oak amidst a field of wheat For Time climbs...

Amidst rigid rows of tall, brick houses, a verdant plain prevailed, wreathed in black iron bars. As summer’s grip began to stiffen, The...