William Michaelian searches for the seam between art and life: “And yet what is strangeness, but the very delight of a beautiful, unaccountable world, ever the more vivid once we have learned to let it go?”

“I might not like the city, but I’ve found out that at this early hour even London seems to be somewhere less crowded, less franchised, its spirit – whatever of it that hasn’t been sold off – more visible.” A traveler rediscovers home in the wee hours.

“My Mom’s hands were like the Grand Canyon. Speckled russet from the sun. Gorged from the work ethic of West Virginia hills. Gnarled from the pain of so many Midwestern storms.” A personal reflection by Mary Davenport on life, the death of her mother, and the beauty and destruction of nature.

At Fortune, Dan Lyons shares an excerpt from his upcoming book on working as a middle-aged man at HubSpot, a youthful startup he calls “a cross between a kindergarten and a frat house.”