Co-Scribe Co-Scribe
Rezultatele cautarii
Vedeti tot
  • Conecteaza-te
    Conecteaza-te
    Inscrie-te
    Căutare
    Night Mode

Director

Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends

  • Utilizatori
  • Postari
  • Pagini
  • Grupuri
  • Events
  • Blogs
  • Offers
  • Jobs
  • Amelia Bradshaw a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:29:59 -
    The Wistful Grid
    The letter arrived on a Tuesday, tucked between a bill for heating oil and a flyer for the municipal recycling drive, its envelope unsealed, the paper inside creased by a thumb that had held it for hours, perhaps days, before it was posted, and when Marguerite opened it, the handwriting was familiar, not in the way of a lover’s script which she had long since burned in the stove of the old...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Amelia Ashworth a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:11 -
    The Pale Protocol
    The knife is in your hand, or rather, your hand is in the knife, a fusion of bone and steel that has happened so slowly you did not notice the seam, the way the skin of your wrist has merged with the hilt until there is no distinct boundary between where you end and the weapon begins, and you are fighting, you are fighting with a fury that tastes like copper and old blood, swinging at the...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Vivian Pemberton a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:18 -
    The Distant Threshold
    The fog clings to the stone walls of the tower. It is a living thing. It breathes against your skin. You are here. You have always been here. The air tastes of iron and wet ash. You do not blink. Blinking is a weakness. Blinking lets the dark in. The dark is already inside. It sits in your chest. It wears your face. Outside, the bells toll. They sound like breaking bones. The war is close. You...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Beatrice Greene a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:22 -
    The Golden Maze
    He woke to the smell of coal dust and wet wool. The dream had been a labyrinth of gold. Not metal, but light. A sun trapped in glass corridors that spiraled down, down, into the dark. He had walked it. He knew every turn. He had built it. Now, in the cold room of the carriage, the gold was gone. Only the soot remained. Elias Thorne sat up. His joints creaked. The sound was dry, like old leaves...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Thomas Fairchild a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:09 -
    The Pale Dance
    The sirens start before the glass breaks. You hear it first. A high, thin wail that drills into the base of your skull. It is the sound of the city screaming. You are standing in the kitchen. Your hands are wet. You are washing a teacup. The porcelain is warm. It is your wife’s cup. The blue rim is chipped. You know the chip. You have known it for twenty years. The wail stops. Silence follows....
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Josephine Holloway a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:24 -
    The Pale Path
    The steam hissed from the valve on the north wall, a sharp, mechanical shriek that cut through the humid air of the processing floor. Elias Thorne wiped the condensation from his forehead with a rag that was already black with soot and grease. His hands were steady, though the tremor in his left wrist had returned, a subtle vibration that reminded him of the frequency at which the turbines...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Henry Holloway a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:26 -
    The Wistful Witness
    The tower stood against the sky. It did not move. The iron ribs were painted black. They held the glass. The glass held the world. I sat in the room at the top. The door was locked. The air was thin. It smelled of oil and old paper. I had been here for three days. No one came. The clock on the wall ticked. It was the only sound. I watched the gears turn. They moved slowly. They moved with...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Harriet Holloway a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:35 -
    The Golden Compass
    The tower stood in the yard like a broken tooth. It was stone. Grey and pitted. It smelled of wet moss and old iron. Elara touched the wall. The cold bit her fingers. She had dreamed of it again. The dream was sharp. It cut her open. In the dream, the tower was gold. It sang. It hummed a low, deep note that shook the marrow of her bones. She woke with the taste of copper in her mouth. The...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Eleanor Hartwell a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:15 -
    The Distant Temple
    The roof gave way at dawn. It was not a storm. It was a surrender. The timber beams, black with age and heavy with the weight of unseen things, simply let go. Dust plumed into the air like a silent explosion. You watched from the safety of the lower hall. You were a clerk. Your hands were stained with ink. Your eyes were dry. Your mother stood in the center of the collapsing room. She did not...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Beatrice Pemberton a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-17 11:30:30 -
    The Wistful Petal
    The mud in the trench was not merely wet earth; it was a living, sucking thing, a viscous membrane that bound us to the bottom of the world with a grip that no amount of shoveling could break. I was a Lieutenant, a title that had begun to feel less like a rank and more like a diagnosis, a chronic condition of the mind that manifested in the inability to stop looking for order in the chaos of...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Afiseaza (237601-237610 de 243781)
  • «
  • Anterior
  • 23759
  • 23760
  • 23761
  • 23762
  • 23763
  • Următor
  • »
© 2026 Co-Scribe Romaian
English Arabic French Spanish Portuguese Deutsch Turkish Dutch Italiano Russian Romaian Portuguese (Brazil) Greek
About Termeni Confidențialitate Contacteaza-ne Support Center Director