Skin Tight begins with a jumpscare. There’s a flash of light and cacophony of sound. The two actors burst in from either side of the stage, colliding in the centre, before an all-out fist fight ensues. It’s a sensory overload, only halted by sudden silence, right at the climax. As if nothing has happened, they kiss.

Skin Tight centres around the final chapter of Tom and Elizabeth’s love story as they indulge in a lifetime past. Secrets are revealed. Uncomfortable truths are exposed. Lust is rif

The theatre was violet. The colour we chose in defiance of pink, the colour of subtle femininity, the colour of girlhood. The soft hue spilled in from the corners of the black box theatre and illuminated the entire space, drowning us in purple for the entire show. White sheets made up most of the set, draped from the ceilings and lining the stage floor to make it look like a canopy-bed-cum-pillow-fort. The performers were comfortable on stage in pyjamas, their belongings messily strewn across th

I’m asking you to stereotype us Cancers. Because you’re right. We cry in everything. I’ve cried due to shock, due to horror, tragedy, cuteness, heartbreak, you name it. This article is compensation for the sheer amount of tears I have shed in public places, so I feel more than qualified to talk about the tearjerker.

If Anything Happens I Love You

If this short film doesn’t make you cry, I genuinely don’t know what will. After the loss of their young daughter in a senseless tragedy, two m

2. Put the oil into a wok on medium heat

3. Toss in the spring onion, ginger, and garlic

4. Put in the broad bean paste and stir to extract the aroma

11. Put in the peas and turn the heat down a little

12. Stew for another five mins

13. Dissolve cornstarch in a small bowl with 3 tablespoons of water and pour that slurry in to thicken the dish

16. Serve with rice and devour that shit

I have 20,000 photos on my phone, and almost none of them are of my mother. When people ask to see what she looks like, I am forced to scroll furiously back to 2015 and dig up memories that seem a lifetime away. But I do have photos of her. Actually, I have a whole wall above my desk adorned with photos of my parents. In these photos, they explore Finland, Germany, Lithuania, Indonesia, take trips to my dad’s hometown in rural China, and attend extravagant dinner soirées. There are no under-eye