Hannah’s insufferably girly script stared at me from the slip of paper in my hand. There was only one word on it.LoganFollowed by a heart with a toothy smiley-face in it which I couldn’t easily look away from. It was the eyes. They were following me when I moved the paper around in my hand, like those of a haunted painting.Ugh. I gave the back of Hannah’s head another glare and, for the hundredth time, mentally repeated t...

Ugh. Managers are the same everywhere. Literally, everywhere, in the entire universe. When I was sixteen, I worked at a supermarket as an underpaid check-out girl. One day, the manager, Mr Schwimmer, came into the staff room (five minutes before my shift had even started!) and informed me that I should go clean up the men’s toilet. Skid marks in the bowl. No points for guessing whose skid marks those probably were in the...

"A private session? Private, as in--""One-on-one," Professor Williams said, leading the way into the university's atelier-and-drawing-studio multipurpose room. It was somewhat hidden in the back, behind many corridors and rooms full of workbenches, supply shelves and closets, arts projects, sculptures, busts, installations and paintings stacked upon paintings. Normally the halls were full of activity, but it was Friday ev...