Bringing Bright Ideas to Life:  My Flash

In the town of Marrow Glen, truth arrived quietly and left without applause. Lies, on the other hand, came with fireworks. His name was Gideon Vale, though most people called him Gid, and eventually—behind cupped hands and glowing screens— they called him the Jester . Not because he was funny. Because he performed. Gid wore spectacle like a tailored coat. He could not enter a room without rearranging its gravity. If someone mentioned the weather, he would tilt his head and mu

There was a time hurt sat in my chest like a locked room no windows, no air. It spoke in the language of almost— almost loved, almost chosen, almost enough. I carried it quietly. Folded it into my pockets. Let it bruise me from the inside. But hurt is restless. It does not like to stay small. It became hunger. Not for revenge— for proof. Proof I could rise without becoming cruel. Proof I could build without breaking others the way I was broken. So

In the 21st century, the question isn’t if  wealth inequality exists — almost everyone feels it now. We see it in grocery bills, in housing prices, in the quiet panic that creeps in when the numbers don’t stretch far enough. What we’re really asking is: Is the rich actually getting richer?  And if so, why the hell does it matter?  Because beyond economic charts and policy debates, wealth inequality defines the opportunities we live with, the dreams we can chase, and the digni