Co-Scribe Co-Scribe
Risultati di ricerca
Mostra tutti i risultati
  • Iscriviti
    Registrati
    Iscriviti
    Cerca
    Night Mode

Elenco

Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends

  • Utenti
  • Articoli
  • Pagine
  • Gruppi
  • Events
  • Blogs
  • Offers
  • Jobs
  • Thomas Lockhart ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:32:51 -
    The Golden Ritual
    The dream begins not with light, but with the smell of damp wool and the heavy, suffocating weight of a woolen cloak that has been soaked in the rain for three days, a scent that clings to the back of your throat like a bad penny and refuses to be spat out, for you are Margaret Holloway, or at least you believe you are, though the name feels like a stone in a shoe that has worn through the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Hartwell ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:32:54 -
    The Pale Letter
    The snow fell in thick, heavy sheets. It buried the world. Thomas held the shard. It cut his palm. He did not care. The blood ran red against the white. It was a beautiful contrast. He stood in the courtyard. The ice groaned under his boots. He was a soldier. He was a ghost. He was waiting. The wind howled through the bare branches. It sounded like a scream. Thomas watched the gate. He watched...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Julian Pemberton ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:33:17 -
    The Pale Exile
    The table was long enough to seat forty, yet it felt crowded with the weight of the harvest moon pressing against the windows of the Barn at Halloway’s Rest. I sat at the far end, my hands folded in my lap, watching the dust motes dance in the beam of the single gas lamp that hung from the center of the room. The air smelled of roasted pork, apple cider, and the sharp, metallic tang of fear...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Beatrice Bradshaw ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:32:55 -
    The Wistful Campus
    The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, cold mist that turned the cobblestones of the small town into slick, black mirrors, reflecting the grey, indifferent sky above us. I stood at the edge of the perimeter fence, my hand resting on the cold, wet wood, feeling the grain of the timber dampen through the thin fabric of my uniform sleeve, a sensation that was both intimate and...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Amelia Ashworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:32:51 -
    The Pale Path
    The bird is in your hand. Do you feel it? The weight of it. It is not heavy, but it is dense. A solid knot of feathers and bone. You hold it tight. Your fingers are locked around its chest. You are standing in the center of the Hall. The floor is black marble. It reflects your face. Your face is pale. Your face is old. "Is it dead?" The voice comes from behind you. It is smooth. It is wet. It...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Vivian Fairchild ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:32:57 -
    The Wistful Petal
    The shop smelled of beeswax and old paper, a scent that clung to the fibers of the wool coats and the lining of the velvet hats like a persistent, sweet ghost. Elias Thorne stood behind the counter, his hands hovering over a row of silver buttons, feeling the smooth, cold weight of them as if they were small, silent moons. He was a man who had spent forty years in this narrow aisle of the city,...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Ellsworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:34:07 -
    The Pale Meridian
    The cartography of our flesh is a map I have failed to read, and the territory is collapsing under the weight of my own ignorance. I stand now in the antechamber of the Abbey of Saint Cuthbert, the air thick with the scent of wet wool and ancient, calcified sorrow, while the rain hammers against the stained glass like a thousand small, desperate fists. My daughter, Elara, lies in the inner...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Silas Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:33:04 -
    The Distant Temple
    The asphalt cracked under my boots. It was a sound like a bone snapping. I was bleeding from the temple. The blood was warm. It ran into my eye. I could not blink. The city was grey. The rain was hard. It was not water. It was needles. I was a cop. I had been a cop for twenty years. My knees ached. My back was a knot of iron. I was old. I knew it. I fought the clock. I lost. My partner, David,...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Edward Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:33:11 -
    The Distant Summer
    The dream was always the same. A house of white plaster. The sun was high and merciless. The walls were peeling, revealing the red brick beneath like raw flesh. Margaret stood in the center of the garden, holding a bucket of water. It was heavy. It was warm. She was not thirsty. She was only waiting for the water to run out. She woke with the taste of dust in her mouth. The room was dark....
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Josephine Calloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 18:33:20 -
    The Wistful Skyline
    The rain did not fall so much as it was applied, a thick, grey paste that coated the cobblestones of Oakhaven until the town looked like a bruise left open by a careless hand. You stood at the edge of the town square, your hands locked around the hilt of a sword that was less a weapon and more a burden of rusted memory. The blade was dull, pitted with the oxidation of decades, yet it hummed...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (245501-245510 di 249034)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 24549
  • 24550
  • 24551
  • 24552
  • 24553
  • Succ.
  • »
© 2026 Co-Scribe Italiano
English Arabic French Spanish Portuguese Deutsch Turkish Dutch Italiano Russian Romaian Portuguese (Brazil) Greek
About Termini e Condizioni Privacy Contattaci Support Center Elenco