You’ve seen them at dusk, walking along the shore, seen them standing in doorways, leaning from windows, or straddling the slow moving edge of a shadow. Lovers of the in-between, they are neither here nor there, neither in nor out. Poor souls, they are driven to experience the impossible. Even at night, they lie in bed with one eye closed and the other open, hoping to catch the last second of consciousness and the first of sleep, to inhabit that no man’s land, that beautiful place, to behold as only a god might, the luminous conjunction of nothing and all.
The University of Virginia Finally Confronts Its Rape Problem The confidential sexual assault investigation system has failed.
Come to Slate’s Holiday Movie Party in New York! Here’s how to get free tickets to our event.
Bad as They Wanna Be Is the Philadelphia 76ers’ lose-on-purpose approach to team-building ingenious or morally bankrupt?