The sand underfoot is white enough to seem like a deliberate cliché. The granules are so fine that each footstep squeaks. The shallows are (of …

There were then two glowing screens atop my desk; three, if you count my yappy little phone. I was a magazine editor at the time—or, as we now say, a …

Being at home has made me look closely at how I choose and maintain friendships. Without the raft of faces every day on my commute, at restaurants, …

I wake up. I should get up, wash my face, and walk the metre to kitchen to make breakfast. But I don’t. I reach, without looking, for my phone and …

Never mind dropping out; as far as turning on and tuning in go, there’s never been a better time. Over the past decade, both cable (The Sopranos, …

Who goes to heaven? Will Freckles the spaniel get in? How about the Goldies, our six consecutive dead goldfish? If flies get in, will it still be …