I once met a clock that ran backward. It whispered secrets in reverse, and now I’m not sure if I’ve lived my life or only dreamed it in rewind.

#lifehappens

Justice runs swift for the wealthy and the influential, but stumbles for the ordinary. How many murders, rapes, and assaults have been cast into the shadows, left to gather dust in forgotten files? They linger, like ghosts haunting the hollow halls of your so-called justice.

I sometimes wonder if the versions of me in other people's memories ever get together to talk about the person I really am. What would they say, and would I agree with any of it?

That surreal moment when you're casually watching the news and suddenly your childhood friend is front and center at a senate hearing, accused of bribery and corruption— plot twist of the year.

There are usually two types of merchants.