Mason Reed

The first time I laughed in a graveyard, I felt guilty. The wind was whispering through old trees, the headstones ...

There’s something magical about Easter morning. The sunlight feels softer. The chocolate tastes sweeter. The air smells like fresh flowers ...

There’s something oddly comforting about the soft tick… tick… tick of a clock. It’s steady. Reliable. A little dramatic. And ...

Last winter, I was wrapped in three blankets, surrounded by tissues, dramatically whispering my “final words” to a half-empty mug ...

Humor is complicated. It can heal. It can bond. It can offend. And sometimes, it makes us uncomfortable on purpose. ...

There’s something dangerously poetic about the image of a Joker holding a Batman card. It isn’t just fan art.It isn’t ...