Here is the first thing Minerva Griffin thought when she stepped on the train at Koblenz Central Railway Station: This is a mistake.
This article is part of a weekly series, “Untruth Tuesdays,” in which I take something completely, absurdly untrue then write about it as if it weren’t. BY MELISSA MARNI, senior staff writer, The civic cheetah press Trixie, a Japanese Bobtail cat with more than 500,000 followers on Instagram, is one of
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” said Henry. “You don’t?” Asked the stranger sitting next to him, a burly man with wide earlobes and no hair. “I don’t know,” Henry said again. “How can it be that you’ve traveled the entire world looking for something and you don’t
By Melissa Marni As the black crow flies, so too does the luck of anyone brazen enough to steal from the Painted Desert for the sake of a vainglorious because I can. Such a creature of inordinate vanity cannot, by the laws of moonlight and the writs of sunshine, remain unpunished
By Melissa Marni Dixon knew the exact moment when he crossed the county line. The deflated tension, the automatic exhale. Cops in Desperado were slow as the town they rode through on old horses or rusted police cars. Here rock and roll meant windswept stones and lonely tumbleweeds. Here time