It was late. We were on our way back from a wedding, or maybe it was a funeral—I can’t remember now. The highway stretched endlessly ahead, and you were in the passenger seat, staring into the dark like it held answers. I don’t remember what we were talking about before. But I remember the pause. And then, your voice cutting through the quie
We didn’t say it, not really. But everything about the drive told me this was the last time. The music was softer than usual. You didn’t sing along. And I didn’t reach for the volume knob like I always did when I got nervous. The roads felt too familiar. Same turns, same traffic lights, but nothing felt the same. We passed our usual coffee
In the highlands of Anatolia, a forgotten empire once rivaled Egypt, struck fear into Babylon, and carved law into clay. The Hittites (c. 1600–1178 BCE) were pioneers of diplomacy, warfare, and written record. They harnessed the power of the horse-drawn chariot, a war machine that turned battles into stampedes. Their capital, Hattusa, was a ma
Long before Japan became Japan, before samurai and shoguns, there were the Ainu. An Indigenous people of northern Japan and parts of Russia, the Ainu lived in harmony with the land — hunting bears, fishing salmon, and honoring the spirits of every living thing. Their language had no written form, but their stories sang across generations. Ainu