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 Distant ThresholdThe coat hung on the hook by the door, a heavy wool thing the color of dried blood, and it was the only thing in the room that did not seem to be screaming, though the walls were peeling and the radiator clanked like a dying man’s heartbeat and the air smelled of stale coffee and the sharp, metallic tang of ozone that had no business being in a third-floor walk-up in the Bronx. I have been here...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CellarThe stone door groaned open. I stepped into the dark. The air tasted of wet earth and old iron. I held the key tight in my palm. It was warm. Too warm. My father had given it to me before he died. He was a man of few words. His hands were rough. They smelled of gun oil and rain. He looked at me then. His eyes were tired. They were not sad. They were just empty. He pressed the key into my hand....0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded GuestThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world until the boundary between the forest and the sky dissolved into a single, breathing mist. I was running, my lungs burning with a sharp, metallic taste, my boots slipping on the slick, dark moss that coated the ancient oaks. Behind me, the silence was not empty but heavy, a physical weight...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SkylineThe banquet hall smelled of roasted lamb and old wax, a scent that clung to the velvet drapes like a secret too heavy to keep. Elias stood at the edge of the room, his hand resting on the small of his back, where the pain lived. It was not a sharp pain, but a dull, grinding ache, as if a stone had been placed inside his spine and slowly crushed. He had carried this stone for twenty years, ever...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale DanceThe rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a thick, gray curtain that blurred the distinction between the world above and the wet cobblestones below, a mist that tasted of iron and old blood, seeping into the joints of the ancient castle walls and settling deep in the marrow of those who dwelt within. Sir Aldous Vane stood at the center of the Great Hall, his armor cold against his skin, the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden VisitThe carriage does not slow as it approaches the gates of the Whitehall Palace, a fact that unsettles you in a way that has nothing to do with the vibration of the suspension or the dust motes dancing in the slanted afternoon light filtering through the stained glass. You are not a person, not in the way the men in the velvet coats and the women with their heavy pearls and their sharp,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded DustI woke with the taste of iron and dried loam in my mouth, a metallic tang that clung to the back of my throat like a secret too heavy to swallow, and for a long, suspended moment I could not distinguish the trembling of my own hands from the subtle, rhythmic vibration of the floorboards beneath me, a tremor that seemed to rise from the very foundation of the house, a deep, subterranean pulse...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SilenceThe rain did not fall so much as it existed, a pervasive, wet presence that turned the cobblestones of the lower city into a slick, reflective mirror of the grey sky above, and Thomas Ashworth stood in the eye of this storm, his hands deep within the folds of his heavy woolen coat, feeling the cold seep through the fabric and settle into the marrow of his bones, a chill that had nothing to do...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale FractureThe dream was white. Not the white of snow. Not the white of paper. A blinding, absolute void. I stood in it. My feet were bare. The ground was cold. Ice? No. Stone. Smooth. Featureless. In my hand, I held the chalice. It was made of glass. Thin. Translucent. Pale. I could see the veins in my palm through the side. The glass was perfect. No flaws. No cracks. I lifted it. My arm shook. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek