-
154 Publicações
-
0 fotos
-
0 Vídeos
-
Female
-
01/05/2005
-
Seguido por 0 pessoas
Atualizações recentes
-
THE PEOPLE'S ENGINE### Act I: The Spark James Callahan first understood what engineering meant at the age of twelve, when he was sent into the depths of the Homestead Steel Plant to unclog a jammed conveyor belt that had brought the entire rolling mill to a halt. The foreman had given him a choice: crawl through the gap between two moving rollers, or watch his father lose a week's wages for the downtime. James...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 9 Visualizações 0 AnteriorFaça o login para curtir, compartilhar e comentar!
-
The Observer at Five PointsCase file #47: Margaret O'Brien, personal notes. Date: March 14, 1963. I did not want this job. I wanted to finish my degree at Columbia, like my father had wanted me to before the incident at the precinct that made finishing anything feel impossible. Instead I was sitting in a third-floor office above a laundromat on Broadway, typing up case reports for a man who treated the rules of criminal...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 8 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Observer at Five PointsThe first thing you notice about Five Points is the smell. Not the second thing or the third thing, but the first. It hits you before you see the buildings or hear the voices or notice the children running barefoot through streets that were more mud than cobblestone. It is the smell of five thousand people living on top of each other in spaces no architect would have approved for a dog kennel....0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Velvet Shadow(Paranormal Romance Variation) Clara lived in a house that breathed. It was an old Victorian estate on the edge of a cliff in Cornwall, where the wind howled like a wounded animal and the sea crashed against the rocks with a rhythmic, violent hunger. Clara was a restoration artist, spending her days breathing life back into faded canvases, but her nights were spent in the company of a ghost....0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 7 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Appraiser's EyeThe file came across my desk on a Tuesday. Standard life insurance claim, three deaths in thirty days, all listed as cardiac arrest. The kind of cluster that makes an adjuster suspicious but not alarmed. We see them every week. I opened the folder. Three names: Frank DeLuca, Rosa Martinez, James O'Brien. All three worked at the Brooklyn docks. All three lived in walk-up apartments in Red Hook....0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 8 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Observatory of Lost StarsLondon, October 1883 The fog had settled over Greenwich like a shroud, thick and yellow with coal smoke, and I sat alone in the observatory with nothing but the great refractor and the weight of a secret that would drown me long before the stars ever did. My name is Arthur Windsor, and I am the last astronomer who knows what lies beyond the silence. It began on the twelfth of September, when...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 7 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
THE SILENT TOWNThe whole affair began as all terrible things do: quietly, in the dark, with the wind whispering through dead branches. It was February, 1887, and the cold had settled into the bones of the territory like a curse. Lieutenant Henry Ashworth huddled beside the search vehicle, his stiff fingers barely managing the telescope. The mountain road coiled above them, black and empty. Below, the town of...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 9 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Gilded Cage of ReasonThe city of Aethelgard was a monument to the Enlightenment, a place where reason was the only currency and logic the only law. In Aethelgard, the "Academy of Pure Thought" governed every aspect of existence, from the architecture of the streets to the frequency of the citizens' heartbeats. To feel was to be inefficient; to love was to be irrational. Julian was the Academy's most celebrated...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Glass HorizonThe city of Neo-Kyoto was a forest of obsidian and light, where the rain fell in rhythmic pulses and the wind smelled of ozone and old ink. In the shadow of the Great Spire, where the corporate lords lived in floating gardens, Julian lived in the "Under-City," a labyrinth of neon alleys and steam-filled vents. He was a "Memory-Sculptor," a technician who could prune the traumas of the wealthy,...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 8 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The ObserverNew York City, 2008 I got the call on a Tuesday, which is the kind of detail that would make a novelist proud but makes me want to laugh. There is nothing cinematic about the end of the world. It comes on a Tuesday, in a phone call, from a number you don't recognize. My name is Mark Delaney, and I am an associate professor of astrophysics at City College of New York. I am thirty-four years old,...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 14 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Black SignalThe phone rang at 11:47 PM, which was late even for this city, but not late enough to be surprising. Jack Moranne let it ring twice, then reached across the desk and picked up the receiver with his good hand. The bad one—the one that ended at the wrist where the war had taken everything below—was tucked under his arm, holding a half-empty bottle of bourbon and a notebook that contained more...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 8 Visualizações 0 Anterior
-
The Black SignalThe phone rang at 11:47 PM, which was late even for this city, but not late enough to be surprising. Jack Moranne let it ring twice, then reached across the desk and picked up the receiver with his good hand. The bad one—the one that ended at the wrist where the war had taken everything below—was tucked under his arm, holding a half-empty bottle of bourbon and a notebook that contained more...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 8 Visualizações 0 Anterior
Mais stories