0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful SkylineThe fog did not lift so much as it retreated, a slow, reluctant withdrawal of grey wool from the windows of the train, revealing a landscape that was both familiar and fundamentally alien, a stretch of moorland that seemed to breathe with a cold, silent malice, and I sat there, clutching the leather satchel that contained the only thing in my life that had any weight, any texture, any reason...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SkylineElara woke with the taste of iron and old ash on her tongue, the sensation so profound it seemed to bypass her throat and settle directly into the marrow of her bones. She was not in her bed in the damp, stone cellar where she had slept for the last three weeks, but lying in a field of tall, white grass that swayed in a wind she could not feel. The sky above was not the grey, bruised ceiling of...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MeridianThe gauge on the boiler ticked. It was a dry, wooden sound. Like a knuckle cracking. I watched the needle tremble against the red zone. My hands were steady. My mind was not. The room smelled of sulfur and old brass. The air was thick. It pressed against my skin. I was the only one here. The shift had ended hours ago. The night watchman, Elias, had left his lantern by the door. The flame was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden RitualThe glass shattered. It did not break loudly. It broke with a sigh, a thin, high-pitched note that cut through the heavy air of the parlor. The mirror on the wall, once whole and reflective, was now a web of fractures. Each shard caught the dim light from the gas lamp, throwing prismatic ghosts across the wallpaper. Margaret stared at it. Her hands were steady. They were always steady. That was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded BouquetThe banquet hall smells of rotting lilies and wet wool. You sit at the far end of a long, mahogany table that stretches into a darkness which refuses to resolve into walls. The candlelight is thick, amber, and suffocating, casting shadows that move independently of the flames. You are a soldier. You know this by the weight of the medal on your chest, a heavy disc of tarnished silver that pulses...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CrossingThe clock on my wrist had stopped. It was a good watch. Gold casing. White face. I had wound it that morning, three times, with the care of a man handling a live bird. It ticked with a steady, cold rhythm against my pulse. Then, as I stepped through the heavy oak doors of the Ministry of Continuity, the ticking ceased. I looked down. The hands were frozen at ten past ten. The second hand hung...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe dream always began with the dust. It was fine gray powder. It settled on the stone floor of the keep. It coated my sword. It caked in the creases of my armor. I stood in the great hall. My feet were bare. The cold bit into my skin. I was not alone. Sir Aldric stood by the hearth. He held a cup of ale. He did not look at me. His back was hunched. He looked old. He looked broken. "Stay," he...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CircuitThe ink was dry before the blood. Elias kept the ledger in the vault. Not paper. Stone. Cold granite slabs, etched with chisel marks so fine they looked like hair. He was the Keeper of the Debt. In the city of Oakhaven, time did not pass; it accrued. Interest compounded on every breath, every sin, every stolen moment. The air smelled of ozone and old dust. It was a smell that coated the teeth....0 Comments 0 Shares 34 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded AlibiThe train pulled away. Dust settled on the platform. Elias watched the receding lights. He stood alone. The air was cold. It cut his skin. He was the Keeper. He held the keys. To the archive. To the truth. Or so they said. Lord Ashworth was waiting. In the car. It was black. It gleamed. Like oil. Elias walked to it. He opened the door. He sat down. The leather was warm. It smelled of smoke. And...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek