Isabel Russo follows the same routine every single day. After her shift at the diner has come to a close she walks across the street, carefully evading motorists and bicyclists and pedestrians as she makes her way down into the subway station in downtown Boston. Once on the train, she pushes headphones into her ears and fumbles with her iPod until ( Read more... )

Ivan Morozov was going to be a problem, Isabel could tell that from the minute she started seeing trade listing after trade listing of expensive computer parts at unreasonably low prices. A quick background check showed that he was already wrapped up in so many federal investigations that there was no way she could crack enough information to track ( Read more... )

( Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them, and you have their shoes. )

My parents are exactly what you would expect in the sticks of upstate New York- hard working, middle class, baby boomers. They met in the military at the ripe old age of twenty one and their love was an epic forever kind of love at first sight. Not. I'm almost positive that everytime my mother recollects her first meeting with my father she recalls ( Read more... )

I try pretty hard not to dissect the more intense emotions life has to offer. Anger, sure I can't really help that one. Love, sadness, these are all of the things that make up my day. But fear? It's hard to pick out the one thing that stands out from all others as being the sole root of my deepest fears. I don't like the dark, I never have. It ( Read more... )