“We see what happens when you persecute people. They fold into themselves…”
—Mahershala Ali, 2017 SAG Awards Acceptance Speech
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Imagine a cat, a stray, that became a woman every sunrise, a fierce black-haired woman named Lucia….
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A personal memoir about growing up in ’80s London as the child of a Greek Cypriot immigrant. It encapsulates the dichotomy between an identity that forced upon the author, and ...
Oxford, choked in an Edwardian haze, everything still there, waiting—
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He hadn’t slept in two days and held a human heart between his palms like clay.
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The voice of a twelve-year-old, as if it didn’t break properly all those years ago, although he’s not as old as you might be led to believe by all those ...
She longed to go outside and sit with her new tenant, Tom, but she restrained herself from doing so.
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He had lived there with his mother and father until he was eight years old. Then his mother and father were gone.
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I don’t feel the need to lie when she arches one eyebrow and says: “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
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Gaz has nabbed a road sign of a man digging a hole, Bilbo’s picked flowers but he won’t say why, and Matty’s filled his handbag with salt and pepper
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Over wire-rimmed glasses, Virginia Woolf peers down at the drawing, takes in the words, breathes in an imagined Argentinian starry sky.
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As James unlocked his door to reveal the inside of his apartment, I considered making up some excuse to leave, but when the door opened, I followed him inside.
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A pair of black cats. But unlike the squirrels, they were anticipating my arrival.
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With each passing kilometre along the E55, my hopes for picturesque
Pomak villages nestled in the foothills of the Rhodope Mountains became snarled
up in the plastic debris that littered ...
I scurried as fast as my feet could take me through the livin room, slidin on cool tiles and headed straight to my secret listenin spot cause I knew there ...
Then I stood and waited, silent, with my arms clasped behind me…I knew them by their smell, or the way they walked, or the cadence of their voice. ...
It was love at first sight. They were both peering at the same framed card.
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Having spent my entire life in a classroom, I finally graduated from university in 2015.
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They didn’t hate Santa, they were just frustrated with the long, repetitive hours and needed someone to punish.
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Not that, at twelve, I believed in Saint Nick, but in my desperation I wasn’t above begging for a miracle.
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