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My family has superpowers.  No, we can’t fly or lift cars. But honestly? I’d argue our powers are more useful than that. My mom had an...

Clearly, Mormonism offers a lot of epic rewards. You just have to qualify for them.  Easy, right? I mean, how much can the Church really...

Laughing, I shove Doug’s feet out of my face.  “Keep that stank to yourself!”  “Rude,” he chuckles. But he moves his feet.  I keep a wary eye on the offenders as I scroll through Netflix’s offerings.  Doug leans back on the couch, lounging, feet tucked close.  For now.  “I remember when Netflix was essentially Blockbuster with delivery,” Doug says, watching me click through options.  I snort.  “Yeah, a DVD delivered right to your mailbox. All so we didn’t have to drive a few

Nigel holds my bag hostage until we’re seated in a little French bistro half a block away from Elias-Clarke.  I go to pick up my menu, but Nigel pulls it from my fingers.  “You have to get the ratatouille, it’s divine.” One corner of his lips curl up into a smirk. “I mean, it’s the only safe choice if you want to keep that size six–sorry, four –figure.”  I flash my teeth in something someone could call a smile.   “You’re lucky I know you’re only half serious. Or else I’d star

Miraculously, Lark arrives on time for her first day. Six-thirty on the dot. Of course, I told her six—just in case. So she’s actually half an hour late. She barrels into the office, barely upright, clutching a tray of coffees like a waitress in a wind tunnel. How none of the cups fly free is beyond me. “I’m so sorry!” she blurts before I can say a word. “My roommate’s cat hid my lucky socks and obviously I couldn’t leave without them, and then the train was late, and I could

Religons have an uncanny way of convincing people to act against their own self interests in this life, in order to gain rewards in ‘the...

Transcript: Council of the Ciphers – April 14, 2025 Setting:  A sleek but slightly disheveled conference room in Cipher’s subconscious,...

“The Shelf” is a widely used metaphor in Mormonism. Whenever you can’t reconcile an uncomfortable piece of Mormon history, practices,...

I had my first doubts about Mormonism at seven years old.  Mostly, these were spurred by the first big decision in a young Mormon’s life:...

I grew up a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I know. It’s a mouthful. Hence, why most people call us ‘Mormons’...

I’ve thought about why I am the way that I am.  Not in some ‘woe is me, my life is so hard,’ way. At least, not since my teens, and what...

This wasn’t supposed to be a memoir. Honestly, I still don’t think it is. Not in the way most people mean it. I didn’t write this because...

“Emily.” Emily and I lock eyes across the room. Unless Miranda’s suddenly decided to downgrade me back to wrong-name status, she really does mean Emily . I can’t remember the last time that happened. Before Miranda has to repeat herself—and all hell breaks loose—Emily scurries into the office. Whatever is said behind that door is too low to catch. A few minutes later, she reemerges, face chalk white and eyes wide, blinking like she’s just stepped out of a time warp. “What is

DM Notes by God, Creator of the Universe, Reluctant Dungeon Master Campaign Title:   Now Presenting: The United States of America ...

A Feminist Reflection on Pets, Labor, and Who Picks Up the Poop Are dogs a tool of the patriarchy? Wait, wait—don’t kill me. Let’s get...

“Five minutes until we need to be out the door for the Herrera show.” I shove in a new pair of studs and crouch—carefully, so I don’t rip my skirt—scanning the floor for the heels that go with this outfit. “Bloody hell, I know,” Emily hisses from across the room. She’s not mad at me—probably—the schedule is just brutal. New York Fashion Week is not for the faint of heart. I’m just grateful I’m not also jet-lagged this time. I jam my feet into the nearly-too-tight heels—not ma

“I really wish you hadn’t done that, Andy.” I step onto the sidewalk and press my phone tighter to my ear, weaving through the crowd outside the station. The cold slices at my cheeks, and I yank my scarf higher. I can practically see my mom on the other end of the call—head down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know, Mom,” I say, trying not to raise my voice over the passing traffic. “But it’s what I needed to do.” “I just don’t understand why you had to make it such a bi

I sit on the rough stone, tracing doodles I can’t even see. There’s really not much else to do when you're falling through a void, a slab...

It’s packed tonight. Bluefin is wall-to-wall with sushi platters, glittery drinks, and people dressed to celebrate in their own style. I’ve never seen so much black without it being weighed down by death. Of course, there has been a death of sorts. Doug is reading the fallout now, my phone lighting up his face. I shove another sushi roll into my mouth and try to focus on the sparkly decorations hanging from the walls and ceiling instead of my restless, twitching foot. It’s no

When did holiday dinners start feeling like interrogations? “Cancel culture has gone too far,” Gammie huffs. “All my friends’ grandkids are cutting them off. Why? Because they voted differently? They’re ungrateful, is what they are.” I plaster on another fake smile, brittle and tight. If I open my mouth, nothing kind will come out. I’m wedged between my “progressive” grandmother, my white-savior uncle, and across from a grandfather whose entire personality is being a retired