Marcus sat by the foyer, the apex of his old guitar in his left hand. It had been over two decades since he played anything but the foyer was where all the magic used to happen. Marcus felt a wave of nostalgia

I stormed out of the classroom in the most amicable way I could, increasing my pace with every step I took. Seconds later, the door behind me flung open and my name was yelled out. “Wongi! Wait.” The voice

Whenever secluded hotels with absolutely no internet connection, or means to connect to the outside world are in a picture, my doubts are spiked. Not only do I find that horrific things happen in those