Cycling In Bohemia
For the first ten kilometres, I wondered why I’d embarked on this madness. My stomach heaved; twisting shoots of pain speared my legs and a film of sweat slid across my brow. I bit my tongue and pushed down on the pedals as I mounted the hill. Around me lay the vast, rolling expanse of […]
Sex work in the age of social media
“You’re posting naked pictures of yourself online… some people find it to be so scandalous or shameful. I don’t know why, but I don’t have that view of it. Everything I’m doing is legal so. . .how much does society really care anymore?” Sex work has diversified into a set of unique and
Mother Tongue
flight after flight after flightmy tongue becomes adjustedto the different cultures: taste,language, kisses; but it mistrusts me the third time I leave home. “What is your mother tongue?”mine earnestly protests. pulled in one, two, three directions, it seems to cry: I have none.an orphaned tongu
WEEKLY ROUNDUP: KASHMIR CONTINUES, BEN STOKES SHINES, PROTESTS, AND MORE.
Kashmir Continues Over twenty-five days have passed since the Indian government began its lockdown on Indian-administered Kashmir. News is slowly emerging from the area, where a communications blackout means information has been hard to get. A recent BBC News report revealed that several Kashmiri vi
WEEKLY ROUNDUP: HONG KONG CONTINUES, THE AMAZON IS BURNING, AND FAKE TWITTER ACCOUNTS REMOVED.
Fires in the Amazon The Amazon rainforest is burning at the fastest rate since records began in 2013, pictures of the browned and smokey wasteland are rampant on social media. The smoke from the fires is so severe that Sao Paulo is getting dark hours before sunset. Meanwhile Jair Bolsonaro seems lit
Tilting Nights
Sometimes she would stand, hands folded, resting her gaze by the window. She would wait until lights fell flat for laughter on the streets for bodies following faces as words trail slowing feet. She watched the tiny worlds between floating hands as fingers parted ways and how sometimes rain grazed o
Fifty Years On From Stonewall
On a hot night in 1969, eighteen-year-old drag queen Martin Boyce saw a high heel-clad, nylon-wrapped leg shoot out of the back of a police van towards a member of the NYPD’s Public Morals Squad, hitting him squarely in the chest and throwing him backwards. This is one of many stories from the Sto
Mal de Barquement
Wow, I’ve been on the river a lot. Still rocking despite dry land for hours. Back and forth, back and forth and forth and round and up and up. Up to where? I’m greeted by three towering silhouettes. They leer, gnash their teeth and creep their fingers around my face until their fingertips taste