-
180 Publicações
-
0 fotos
-
0 Vídeos
-
Male
-
16/01/1967
-
Seguido por 0 pessoas
Atualizações recentes
-
The Gilded Cage (Austro-Hungarian Empire)Vienna in 1892 was a city of velvet curtains and hidden rot. The Ringstraße gleamed with the confidence of an empire that believed itself eternal, while in the coffee houses, the air was thick with the scent of roasted beans and the quiet desperation of a dying aristocracy. Maximilian was a product of this gilded decay. A minor nobleman with a title that carried more weight than his bank...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 AnteriorFaça o login para curtir, compartilhar e comentar!
-
Observation Log: Unit Leo**Log Entry 442.1** Subject: Leo. Occupation: Mirror Maintenance Technician (Grade 4). Observation: Subject is currently scrubbing sector 12. His movements are inefficient, characterized by a slight tremor in the left hand. Heart rate is elevated. He is humming a melody that does not exist in the ship's music library. **Log Entry 612.5** Subject: Leo. Observation: Subject has spent three hours...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
THE NEIGHBOR ON 112THI. Margaret Thompson had lived in apartment 302 of 112th Street for five years, and in all that time she had never learned Edgar Winters's last name. Everyone called him Professor Winters, but no one knew what he had been a professor of until someone found his old Columbia University ID card in a drawer and discovered he had been a theoretical physicist. He was a tall man with stooped shoulders...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
Variant 02: The Frequency of Silence(Adaptation Model: Psychological-Interiority) For Luke Watson, the world was divided into two distinct realms: the Recorded and the Unrecorded. The Recorded was the domain of the Safety Band, a sleek black loop of polymer and sensors that lived on his wrist. It was the voice of his father, Richard, echoing from New York, a constant, invisible presence that whispered: I am watching. I am...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The man who called himself Frank Callahan had eyes like broken glass, and...She had met him four years ago at a charity gala at the Biltmore Hotel, where she had been performing with her dance troupe as part of the evening's entertainment. He had been sitting in the back row, watching her with an expression she couldn't read -- not interest, not boredom, something in between that she had classified as "military assessment." She had forgotten him by the time the encore...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 10 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
GhostCurse-02变体样本-202605180658The television had been dead since 1998, but Jack could hear it thinking. Not the picture—that was gone, burned out in some electrical storm or another long ago. The sound. The soft, electric hum that told you the thing was still alive, still reaching for a signal that wasn't coming. He adjusted the transistor with his screwdriver until the hum changed pitch, and for a moment, before the static...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 12 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
Title: The Eraser of AgesI am the Silence. I am the one who walks through the corridors of time with a sponge and a bucket of white paint. My job is simple, though the creatures I visit often mistake it for cruelty: I erase the mistakes. When a civilization grows too proud, when a species forgets the cost of its progress, or when a society becomes so obsessed with its own history that it can no longer imagine a future,...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The book was black. Not the kind of black you see, but the kind of black you feel, like standing ...Jack Callahan found it three days after his father's funeral, in a cardboard box marked "Miscellaneous" in handwriting that was definitely his father's and definitely shaky, like the man had been afraid of whatever he was writing. The box had been in the back of a closet in the house Jack had not been in since he was twelve years old, the house on South State Street where he had grown up and...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Meat BodyI The letter from Pharmabody arrived on a Thursday. Jack Morrisey almost threw it away—he threw away a lot of mail, most of it bills, some of it collection notices—but the return address caught his eye: Pharmabody Clinical Trials, Youngstown, Ohio. He sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and read it. The letter offered him a spot in a "groundbreaking gene therapy program" for patients with...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 11 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Street Where Two Centuries MetThe woman who was not yet a grandmother sat at the window of the top-floor flat at 147 Bethnal Green Road and watched the street below. The year was 1925. The war had been over for seven years, which was long enough for the men who had survived to build new lives but not long enough for them to stop walking with a limp or waking up screaming or drinking themselves into a silence that looked...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Jazz PsychologistThe Jazz Psychologist Act I The piano in the basement of 227 W 125th Street was out of tune, but it didn't matter. When Willie "Fast Fingers" McCoy played, the audience heard what he wanted them to hear. And on this particular Tuesday in October 1924, the music sounded like freedom. James Harrison sat in the back corner of the club with a cup of coffee that had gone cold forty minutes ago....0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Sisyphus of Wall StreetJulian Vane lived in a world of white noise and grey pixels. His office was a void of minimalism—no art, no plants, just a single, high-resolution monitor and a chair that cost more than a mid-sized car. Julian was a man who had seen the end of the world, and it looked like a spreadsheet. He had spent fifteen years as a quant, a mathematical wizard who could predict market swings with a...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 17 Visualizações 0 Anterior
Mais stories