She used to wake to the sound of birds and the scent of wet soil. Now she wakes to silence and dust. The river that once fed her village has dried into memory. The crops no longer grow. The earth no longer gives. Her family did not want to leave—but the land left them first. This is the story of climate migration, and it is unfolding across conti
The machines never sleep. Somewhere, a program is learning, adapting, evolving. Artificial intelligence powers decisions in hospitals, courtrooms, hiring panels, and financial systems. Algorithms decide what news we see, what products we buy, and who we trust. We are building something powerful—something revolutionary. But in our race to innovate
Dessert is often placed at the end. The final act. The closing statement. But sometimes, dessert is not the end at all—it’s the beginning. Of memory. Of healing. Of feeling something again. In Egypt, roz bel laban—rice pudding—tastes like time. Slow-cooked with milk, sugar, and love, it reminds you that good things can’t be rushed. In t
Sometimes, sweetness finds you when you’re not looking for it. In a drawer you haven’t opened in months. On a plate someone else made for you. In a memory you didn’t know still lived inside your body. In Spain, ensaimada is a spiral pastry dusted with powdered sugar. Flaky, airy, and warm from the oven, it unravels slowly—as do we, in safe
Waiting is hard. It asks us to pause when everything around us urges motion. To sit still when our hearts race. To believe when no answers come. And yet, waiting is one of the most profound human experiences. We wait for news. For love. For healing. For change. We wait in lines, in inboxes, in silence. And in that waiting, we confront time. Wa