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
  • Harriet Ashcroft a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:21 -
    The Pale Garden
    The fog did not lift. It thickened. Elias stood before the mirror. The glass was cold. It was black. It was wet. He touched it. His finger left a smear. The smear did not vanish. It lingered. It watched. "Hello, brother," the fog whispered. It was not a voice. It was a vibration. It lived in the teeth. It lived in the bone. Elias pulled his hand back. His heart hammered. It was a bird trapped...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Henry Pemberton a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:48 -
    The Distant Joke
    The chandelier fell at four o’clock. It did not shatter. It cracked. A single, clean fissure ran through the crystal. Silence followed. Then the sound of breathing. Silas stood in the center of the hall. He was a large man. His hands were red. Not with blood. With water. The chandelier was wet. He had thrown it. He had thrown it at the mirror. The mirror had broken. The chandelier had...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Beatrice Ashcroft a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:08 -
    The Golden Ritual
    The hall smelled of roasted pork and old wax. It smelled of triumph. Elias stood at the center of the room. He held the chalice. It was not gold. It was obsidian. It was heavy. It drank the light. He looked at his brother. Julian sat on the throne. Julian looked young. Julian looked whole. Elias was a scholar. He knew the weight of things. He knew the history of glass. He knew that glass...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Nathaniel Bradshaw a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:20 -
    The Golden Song
    The rain hits the tin roof of the signal box with a rhythm that feels less like weather and more like a countdown, a relentless, metallic ticking that marks the seconds you have left before the fog swallows the valley whole. You stand at the window, your hand resting on the cold glass, feeling the vibration of the tracks beneath the earth, a low hum that travels up through the soles of your...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Amelia Merritt a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:42 -
    The Distant Garden
    I woke with the taste of iron and wet clay on my tongue, the dream still clinging to me like a damp shroud, a place of green things that breathed and died in the same breath. I am a man of stone and mortar, a builder of walls that are meant to stand against the wind, yet I have found myself, in this strange and final week, constructing a garden in the air, a structure of pure intent that no...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Catherine Bradshaw a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:40 -
    The Wistful Incense
    The fire started not in the hearth, but in the ledger. It began as a spark, a tiny, orange eye blinking in the margin of the accounts, and by the time the smoke reached the high vaulted ceilings of the Abbey’s scriptorium, I had already stopped trying to scream. The air was thick, tasting of ash and old paper, a dry, choking dust that settled in my throat like sand. Around me, the other nuns...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Julian Ellsworth a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:04 -
    The Golden Cellar
    The spider is not a metaphor. It is a fact. It sits in the corner of the conference room, a dense, velvety knot of legs and silk, pulsing with a rhythm that matches your own failing heartbeat. You look at it. It looks at you. There is no fear in your eyes, only the exhaustion of a creature that has been running for a very long time. The room is cold. It is a glass box suspended above the city,...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Harriet Ashworth a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:05:23 -
    The Pale Bridge
    The stone of the manor house breathed, a slow, rhythmic exhalation that Thomas felt against his cheek before he opened his eyes. He was lying in the garden, the damp earth cold and heavy against his skin, but he did not feel the chill. He felt only the presence of the house, that vast, breathing entity that loomed over the valley like a sleeping giant. Thomas was twelve years old, and he had...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Vivian Winthrop a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:26 -
    The Pale Altar
    The dream began, as it always did for Elias Thorne, with the sound of water striking a stone that was not quite stone, but rather a congealed, pale mass of something organic and waiting, and he woke in the gray half-light of his flat in the city with the taste of that cold, mineral liquid still heavy on his tongue, a sensation that clung to him with the tenacity of a parasite, reminding him...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Charlotte Ashworth a adăugat un sunet Literature
    2026-08-18 10:06:10 -
    The Pale Path
    The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray weeping that turned the cobblestones of the old quarter into slick mirrors reflecting the soot-stained windows of the town hall, where I sat alone with a ledger of names and a growing, cold stone of dread in my chest. I am an investigator of sorts, though my title is modest and my methods are quiet, and I have spent the last fortnight...
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare
    Vă rugăm să vă autentificați pentru a vă dori, partaja și comenta!
  • Afiseaza (280921-280930 de 403853)
  • «
  • Anterior
  • 28091
  • 28092
  • 28093
  • 28094
  • 28095
  • 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