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
  • Silas Thorne ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:13 -
    The Distant Crown
    The rain fell in sheets, cold and relentless, striking the wet cobblestones of the courtyard like a thousand tiny hammers. Elias Vance did not flinch. He stood before the High Court of the City, his hands bound in iron that bit into his wrists, the metal slick with sweat and rain. Around him, the air hummed with a low, thrumming frequency, a vibration that rattled the teeth and blurred the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • James Fenwick ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:04 -
    The Distant Summer
    The hammer struck the anvil. Thomas felt the vibration in his teeth. The forge was hot. Too hot. He was a blacksmith. He was also the King’s son. The crown was heavy. It sat upon the mind. It pressed down. It did not fit. The iron glowed orange. Then yellow. Then white. Thomas lifted the tongs. His arms trembled. Not from heat. From fear. The door opened. Wind rushed in. Dust swirled. A figure...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Vivian Greene ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:08 -
    The Wistful Campus
    The hands were gone. I knew this before I opened my eyes. The morning light in the dormitory room was thin and grey, cutting through the dust motes that danced in the stagnant air. I reached for the bedside table, my fingers brushing the cold wood, expecting the familiar weight of a wristwatch, the callous of a pen, the softness of skin. There was nothing. Just air. I sat up, the sheets pooling...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Merritt ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:11 -
    The Faded Road
    You have always believed that the truth is a thing you can hold, a solid weight in your pocket, but the town of Ockham disagrees, and it does so with a silence that tastes like iron filings and old rain. You are the investigator, the one who walks the narrow, wet streets with your coat collar turned up against the damp chill, looking for the fracture in the mirror, for the place where the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Vivian Ashcroft ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:02 -
    The Golden Myth
    The map was a lie. It said the pass was three miles east, but the wind had eaten the trail, and the white world had swallowed the landmarks. I stood on the ridge, my boots sinking into snow that felt like cold ash. Below me, the valley was a chasm of gray silence. My radio was dead, a broken brick of plastic in my pocket. The battery had died at dusk, or perhaps the storm had killed it. It did...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Beatrice Winthrop ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:16 -
    The Faded Root
    The hand gave out on a Tuesday, which was the sort of day one expects for small failures, not for the unraveling of a life’s work. It was a cold, damp Tuesday in Harrowgate, the kind of morning where the fog sits heavy in the streets and clings to the wool of one’s coat like a jealous lover. I was standing in the middle of the main square, holding a crate of apples that had been waiting for me...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Beatrice Bradshaw ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:04:10 -
    The Wistful Dinner
    The hall smelled of wet wool and old blood. It was a long table. Stone. Cold. My father sat at the head. He did not eat. He watched the fire. I sat by the door. The door was heavy. Iron-banded. Locked from the outside. I could see the handle. I could not touch it. The guards stood by the walls. They held spears. They looked at me. They did not blink. My father’s eyes were red. Not from anger....
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Catherine Ashworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:14 -
    The Distant Clue
    The rain fell on the stone bridge with a persistent, rhythmic thud, a sound that had not changed in three hundred years, while Arthur Penhaligon stood on the far bank, holding the cracked ceramic shard in his gloved hand. It was a piece of a bowl, blue and white, the glaze chipped to reveal the gritty clay beneath, and he turned it over and under in the gray light, feeling the jagged edge catch...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Pemberton ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:04:26 -
    The Faded Portrait
    The rain fell in sheets of grey iron. It hammered the stone walls of the keep. The wind howled. It sounded like a wolf. Or perhaps a ghost. Sir Thomas stood in the center of the hall. He did not move. His armor was wet. It clung to his chest like a second skin. The metal was cold. It bit into his flesh. He waited. He had waited for three days. The door opened. A gust of wind rushed in. It...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 6 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Beatrice Fairchild ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-17 23:05:28 -
    The Faded Bouquet
    The road into the valley of Aethelgard was not merely a path of packed earth and mud but a throat, a narrowing channel of grey stone that squeezed the air from the lungs and forced the traveler to breathe in shallow, terrified sips of the cold morning air that smelled of wet iron and rotting lichen. Edric Vane walked with his head bowed, the heavy leather satchel slung across his back digging...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (254031-254040 di 294645)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 25402
  • 25403
  • 25404
  • 25405
  • 25406
  • 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