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I looked for it in the afterlight lapping the edge
of the long valley. I sought it in canopy, in the horizon’s
fringe, past. . .
Gedney Market felt like a new man. Even his walk was lighter, bouncier, more self-confident. As he strode down Lexington Avenue. . .
Emile was a paralegal. He knew he’d be a lawyer someday, he’d move up and become a lawyer, with his own office and. . .
On a promising field of biomedical research making great strides—for white people.
Western intervention may ultimately contain the latest Ebola outbreak in the DRC. But at what cost?
High Life embraces the beauty, terror, and shit of material existence.