What I end up saying when I try to explain to people, and myself, why I bought a vacation house in Detroit.
Photographs from a new book of American public libraries—some famous, some neglected, some both—plus an essay by former Poet Laureate Charles Simic.
As New York real estate prices skyrocket, it’s time to head where no gentrifier has gone before.
Human beings captured behind closed doors, in their most animal state. Some images may be considered NSFW.
Seeking respite from a life lived in war zones—too many rebel factions, too many gunshots, too many backfiring motorcycles that sounded like gunshots—a family discovers temporary shelter in the outer edges of New York City. And then, the deluge.
New Yorkers don’t fade away—they just move. But to where? From Miami to Austin to Berlin, detailed maps of nearly every other significant city’s neighborhoods show ex-pats exactly where to emigrate.
For the middle-class residents of Tel Aviv, housing is either too expensive or difficult to find. On one city street, apartments are plentiful but—for more than one reason—not the kind you’d like to see.
For those of us who are single and looking, the world is full of opportunities and just as full of all sorts of regrets. Reviews of three places with three men.
Across the U.S., neighbors of foreclosed homes are eagerly awaiting the new homeowners—soon-to-be acquaintances, friends, lenders of spices, spouse swappers
Never mind all that gloomy talk of falling real-estate prices. For many renters, even a heavily mortgaged apartment is the stuff of daydreams.
A woman stops by her dorm room late at night. Careful not to wake her roommate, she never turns on the light. The next morning, she returns to find the police at her dorm. What happens next?
Stories of slammed doors and sad spirits aside, the man who committed suicide in your apartment probably isn’t there anymore. Probably.