Bus-Riding and the Ethics of Convenience
Making eye contact is unusual, speaking to a stranger even more so.
Making eye contact is unusual, speaking to a stranger even more so.
I may have just wasted my one good, cool nature fact, and this isn’t even a nature essay.
I had approximately six days to solve this moral dilemma.
After all, the “f” in “football” stands for nothing if not for “fashion.”
Wallow a little in self-pity. Start regretting all life decisions.
Last week I randomly found myself on a flight to Florence, Italy, with no other goal than to eat some local tiramisu.
I fear we are not rising to the task of developing and distributing this technology responsibly and equally.
We’re seeing the consequences of writers playing hooky from the Wattpad/AO3/Fanfiction.net School of S—ty First Drafts.
Every glimpse of my people I see in these little faces is extraordinary.
Soon the crisp paragraphs are surrounded with chaotic towers of written words, the columns teetering precariously.