0100 hours - No sign of life on the horizon. Just the steady hum of the universe echoing through the darkness. The ship stays its course navigating alone in a sea of empty space. Why did I choose this life of lonely adventuring?

0300 hours - The witching hour. That time of night when past the hull of my corrugated vessel comes the haunting sounds of invisible beasts. Their roars rattle me to the ...

When Ernesto saw the high-end optical store open at the corner of 5th and St. John's, he knew it was the beginning of the end of the neighborhood.

It always starts with a store that doesn't quite belong. Childhood friends on the other side of town told stories of a similar pattern. First, came the coffee shops, with their artisanal beans roasted in a converted downtown warehouse; then the art ga...