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Let’s just clear out all the garbage, shall we?

Featured Stories

Half of Miguela’s bed was taken up by her stuffed animal collection. Dozens of pairs of glass eyes, shining silver in the darkness, gazed sightlessly at him…

“Tell ’em Riddick’s dead. He died somewhere on that planet.” I believed. I thought the monster was dead. But the whole time it was lying in wait. It was the man who was a lie. Just a mask he was wearing to fool us…

His intimacy with violent death was like a dark mirror of mine. He was the one who dealt it; I was the one who felt it. I know he liberated something inside of me…

If Jack had ever had a pet, she might have recognized herself. She was creeping up on Paris with all of the intensity and excitement of a half-grown kitten that had spotted a vulnerable bird. Closer and closer, and he wasn’t suspecting…

Everybody said he was nasty and mean and evil. The thing I noticed about him, and that interested me, was how male he was. You want to talk about the butchest of the butch, Riddick fits the bill. And since I was trying to impersonate a guy back then, I wanted to learn how to move like he did, how to act like he did…

But the movie was only half the point, and the less important half at that. It was the sanctuary. Getting to be held by the one man in the universe she implicitly trusted. That was the real driving force, the real point…

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Established November 1, 2003 by Ardath Rekha

Ardath Rekha