Co-Scribe Co-Scribe
نتائج البحث
عرض كل النتائج
  • انضم إلينا
    تسجيل الدخول
    تسجيل
    البحث
    الوضع المظلم

الدليل

Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends

  • المستخدمون
  • المنشورات
  • الصفحات
  • المجموعات
  • المناسبات
  • المدونات
  • مفاوضاتي
  • وظائف
  • Harriet Lockhart أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:13 -
    The Golden Greenhouse
    The dream was not of a place, but of a weight. It pressed against the back of Eleanora’s neck, a cold, metallic pressure that tasted of copper and old rain. She woke in the holding cell, the fluorescent light buzzing above her like a trapped insect, and the weight was still there. It was not a ghost. It was the collar. It hung around her throat, a heavy band of tarnished silver, inlaid with...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Julian Bradshaw أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:11 -
    The Golden Ritual
    The chandelier broke before the first scream was fully formed. It did not shatter with the dramatic, glass-storming violence one might expect from such a height, but rather with a sickening, internal collapse, a structural failure that sent the heavy crystal pendants tumbling into the polished marble floor of the Grand Hall like the teeth of a dying giant. The sound was a wet crunch, followed...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Nathaniel Pemberton أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:23 -
    The Golden Mirror
    The rain against the windowpane was a rhythmic, insistent tapping, like the fingers of a ghost trying to recall the shape of the door. I sat at my desk in the study, a room so small and airless it felt less like a space and more like a lung, holding its breath. The air smelled of old paper, damp wool, and the faint, metallic tang of the copper salts I used for my etchings. It was a smell that...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Catherine Ashworth أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:23 -
    The Golden Suspect
    The train whistle cut through the fog like a surgical incision, separating the world of iron and steam from the damp, decaying wood of the platform. You stood there, your coat buttoned to the throat, the brass buttons catching the dim gaslight of the station, reflecting a cold, metallic glow that seemed to belong to a different century. It was 1913, and the city of New York was a beast of smoke...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Thomas Winthrop أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:38 -
    The Pale Banner
    The rain in the city did not fall so much as it was suspended, a dense, grey mist that clung to the wet pavement and the rusted iron of the fire escapes, turning the afternoon into a bruised, indistinct smear of watercolor. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his workshop, a narrow space on the fourth floor of a brick building that smelled permanently of turpentine, old varnish, and the...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Beatrice Bradshaw أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:23 -
    The Golden Quest
    The rain hit the canvas of the tent with a sound like static. It was a high-frequency hiss, relentless and cold. Elias sat on the ground, his back against the ridgepole. He was not sleeping. He was waiting for the signal. In his hands, he held the device. It was a small, black cube, no larger than a deck of cards. It hummed. A low, vibrating thrum that he felt in his teeth. This was the fourth...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Eleanor Bradshaw أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:26 -
    The Wistful Voyage
    The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a silence that broke the world open. You remember the smell of it before you saw the smoke, a sharp, metallic tang of burning oak and dried rosemary that filled the narrow streets of Oakhaven. It was the autumn of your tenure, the year the Council had finally granted you the title of Keeper of the Archive, a position that was less a job and more a...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Amelia Ashworth أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:40 -
    The Golden Greenhouse
    The first thing you notice, standing in the middle of the atrium with the dust motes swirling in the pale morning light, is how the air tastes of copper and stale lavender, a scent that seems to have seeped into the very plaster of the walls over the decades since the institution was founded to house those who could not quite fit into the rigid geometry of the outside world. You are young, only...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Edward Hartwell أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:20 -
    The Distant Summer
    The iron gate groans against the frost, a sound like a man clearing his throat before delivering a sentence that has already been written in stone, and you stand there in the courtyard of the keep, the morning mist clinging to the wool of your tunic so thickly that you feel less like a soldier and more like a ghost haunting the very walls that hold you, watching the wisteria vines that climb...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • Charlotte Whitmore أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature
    2026-08-17 14:20:43 -
    The Faded Frequency
    The watch is broken. You know this. You have known it since the moment the glass face cracked against the stone floor of the cellar, a sound like a single bone snapping in a quiet room. It is a silver thing, heavy on your wrist, the band tarnished with the sweat of three weeks. The face is fractured. The hands are still. Time has stopped for you, or perhaps time has stopped for the world, and...
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
    الرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
  • عرض (242081-242090 من 248985)
  • «
  • السابق
  • 24207
  • 24208
  • 24209
  • 24210
  • 24211
  • التالي
  • »
© 2026 Co-Scribe Arabic
English Arabic French Spanish Portuguese Deutsch Turkish Dutch Italiano Russian Romaian Portuguese (Brazil) Greek
الشروط الخصوصية اتصل بنا Support Center الدليل