Perhaps it's worth saying again: One reader's discomfort should never stand in the way of another reader's survival.

So, there was this beautiful princess. She was locked in a high tower(...)She was stuck up there(...)So the only thing was to jump.

The lie took form as she spoke, pulling on as many strands of truth as it could reach.

And it was pretty clear that no prince was showing up, or at least that he was really late.

Irony is always the best weapon against fascism.

And over all those sleepy weeks, the dream always ended the same way, with the dragon coming for the princess saying the same words every time.... "Face it, Tally-wa, you're Special.

The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit.