0 Yorumlar
0 hisse senetleri
15 Views
0 önizleme
Rehber
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Hound's LedgerI remember the smell of the city first—a mixture of hot asphalt, rotting garbage, and the electric tang of ozone. I was a creature of the gutters, a patchwork of ribs and matted fur, surviving on the scraps of a world that viewed me as a nuisance. I didn't ask for much: a dry piece of cardboard, a stray crust of bread, and the occasional kindness of a stranger. Then came the Man. He was a blur...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 8 Views 0 önizleme
-
THE MIRROR OF WHITE FOXDr. Edmund Ashworth woke at dawn with a Roman coin pressed against his palm. He did not remember acquiring it. He did not remember waking. The only thing he remembered was the journal—his own handwriting filling pages he had no recollection of writing, describing souls he had never met, places he had never been, in a voice that was not entirely his own. The coin was Augustan, perhaps first...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 15 Views 0 önizleme
-
THE MIRROR OF BLOODAct I: The Pattern The rain in New Shanghai did not fall so much as it accumulated, layering itself in thin sheets across every surface like a slow, persistent erasure. Mor watched it from the doorway of his hab-unit in the lower district, watching the acid droplets eat into the metal plating of the street below with the same indifferent consumption that characterized everything in this city....0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5 Views 0 önizleme
-
Bowing to No OneNoah Williams had been taking pictures on the streets of Brooklyn for eleven years, and if there was one thing he had learned in that time, it was this: everybody's got a light inside them, and everybody's gonna lose it eventually. The trick is catching it before it goes. He didn't call it a gift. He called it a talent. The people who knew what he was talking about—the art critics, the gallery...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 11 Views 0 önizleme
-
THE CORNER PHARMACYThe bell above the pharmacy door chimed at six in the morning, the way it always did, announcing another Tuesday in a Brooklyn neighborhood that was changing faster than anyone could keep up with. Marcus Lee stood behind the counter and watched Mrs. Glickman shuffle in from the second floor of the building across the street, her cardigan buttoned wrong and her slippers scuffing the sidewalk. He...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 12 Views 0 önizleme
-
THE PALE WITNESSAct I: The Seeing The fog came in thick on Tuesday, the kind of fog that turns Blackpool's lighthouse beam into a pale thumbprint against a sky the colour of wet slate. Edmund Harthwaite stood at the lantern room's window and watched the working quarter below wake through the mist. He knew three of those workers would be dead by Friday. He did not know which three. He only knew, with the...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Last PrecautionThe fog came in off the Thames like a living thing, wrapping London in a shroud of grey and damp. Arthur Pendelton watched it from behind three layers of glass in his study, counting the seconds between each gust of wind. Forty-seven seconds. Within the margin of error. He had been counting things for twenty years. Since the accident in 1865, since the horse and carriage had slipped on ice and...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5 Views 0 önizleme
-
Kneel for the DeadThe rain in Los Angeles didn't fall so much as it hovered, a permanent suspension between sky and street, like the city couldn't decide whether it wanted to wash itself clean or just stay dirty forever. Silas Gray had been living in this particular kind of damp for eleven years, since he came back from Vietnam with a bad knee, a worse temper, and a gift he didn't ask for and would have given...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4 Views 0 önizleme
-
The Parasite's GratitudeThe silence of the basement apartment in East London was not a peace; it was a vacuum. Mark lived there by choice, a man who found the presence of other people to be a form of psychic noise. He was an archivist, a curator of dead papers and forgotten dates, a man who preferred the company of ink to the company of flesh. His life was a carefully constructed loop of solitude, designed to keep the...0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4 Views 0 önizleme