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About Phoenix

So, we’re hagglin’ – I’m like, “Ten quid, c’mon!” She’s all, “Twenty or piss off.” I’m ragin’, but also crackin’ up – she’s harder than me on a bender! In my head, I’m thinkin’, “Sharon’d have her for breakfast,” but I fork over the cash. Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – I’m seein’ Eilis again, “You’re the most beautiful thing,” but this ain’t love, it’s quick and dirty, mate.

Consuela’s route

Salvadoran journalist Óscar Martínez's harrowing new book is a plea for comprehension of the terror that drives people from Central America.

The streets...The streets are a messy, delightful puzzle. I stroll down Ferry Lane and see families playin' in the park. Like, for real, just happy folks relaxin' by the Martinez River – it’s pretty trippy, ya know? I always say, “This ain't no fairytale river,” but sometimes, when life hits me with its odd twists, I remember a line—“the void is what remains,” kinda like in The Return. Crazy, right?

IM NOT BLUSHING YOU’RE BLUSHING 🤺🤺