Bogart Vol 01 No 01 May 2026

As the sun began to rise over the Mediterranean, Bogart stood on the tarmac, watching the fox and her sister board a plane to Lisbon. He knew he’d never see her again, but that was the life he chose.

"I’m looking for something that doesn't want to be found," she whispered, her voice like sandpaper on silk. Bogart Vol 01 No 01

The rain in Casablanca didn't wash away the sins; it just made them shiny. In the dimly lit corner of Rick’s Café, sat with a glass of lukewarm bourbon and a heavy heart. He was a man out of time, a private investigator who preferred punching his way through a problem rather than talking it out. As the sun began to rise over the

The door creaked open, and in walked a fox—not a metaphorical one, but a literal, red-furred fox in a trench coat. She was looking for her sister, and Bogart, ever the gentleman, called her beautiful and took the case. The rain in Casablanca didn't wash away the

"Goodbye, kid," he muttered to himself, echoing a ghost from a past he could never quite shake. "Hurry back".