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 Fairchild ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:23 -
    The Distant Machine
    The dream began not with a sound, but with a scent, the cloying, heavy perfume of rotting lilies mixed with the sharp, metallic tang of old blood. Elias Thorne stood in a field that had no horizon, the sky above him a bruised purple that seemed to pulse with a slow, rhythmic heartbeat. He was still wearing his uniform, the wool heavy and damp against his skin, the buttons of his tunic cold...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 32 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Nathaniel Thorne ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:20 -
    The Distant Whispers
    The clock in the antechamber did not tick. It hummed. A low, viscous thrum that vibrated in the teeth of those who stood within its reach. Julian held the ledger against his chest. It was heavy. Heavier than it had been that morning. The paper felt damp. The ink bled, though no water had touched it. He waited. The doors were mahogany. They stood open. Beyond them lay the Atrium of the High...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Greene ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:08 -
    The Wistful Campus
    The iron tasted of rust and old blood. It was a taste I had carried in my mouth for twenty years, a metallic tang that lingered long after the duel was over. I stood in the center of the courtyard, the rain hammering against the stone floor, slicking my tunic to my skin. Across from me, the Master of the Guild, Sir Arthur Pendelton, held his blade low. His eyes were not on my sword. They were...
    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
    2026-08-18 18:35:04 -
    The Distant Wound
    The dream was not of falling, as the old poets had claimed, but of running, a frantic, breathless sprint across a landscape that was entirely made of paper, white and endless and blindingly bright, where the wind did not blow but rustled, a dry, skittering sound like the turning of ten thousand pages, and in that white void, Thomas Bradshaw could see, with a clarity that felt like a needle...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Julian Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:12 -
    The Pale Tale
    The bell tower of St. Jude’s rang not with sound, but with a pressure in the teeth. You felt it before you heard it. A low, grinding hum that vibrated up through the floorboards of the archive room. You were not supposed to be there. You knew this. You knew the rules. You knew that the clock mechanism was the only thing holding the building’s foundation together, a metaphor for the city itself....
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Merritt ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:34:16 -
    The Golden Maze
    The ink was already bleeding into the grain of the parchment when I first noticed the stain, a dark, viscous bloom that spread across the signature line of Arthur Penhaligon’s will with the slow, deliberate patience of a bruise forming under skin. I stood in the center of the High Chancery, a cavernous hall of black marble and iron girders that smelled perpetually of wet stone and old dust, and...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Charlotte Whitmore ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:52 -
    The Faded Root
    The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey veil that turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into a mirror of my own trembling reflection. I walked with the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots that had known nothing but the smell of wet wool and the sharp, metallic tang of shears, my hands still stained with the indigo dye that had soaked into the whorls of my fingerprints over thirty...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 25 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Ashworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:20 -
    The Golden Quest
    The train slowed as it entered the valley, a long metallic sigh that seemed to vibrate in my teeth. I had come to Harrow’s Gap for the air, the doctors said. The city had become a cage of dust and static, and my lungs, once capable of expanding to fill a lecture hall, now recoiled from the faintest trace of pollen. I was a scholar of history, a man who lived in the past tense, and now my body...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Eleanor Lockhart ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:15 -
    The Wistful Letter
    The cellar smelled of wet earth and the sweet, cloying rot of over-ripe plums, a scent that had soaked into the very stones of our ancestral home until it became less a smell and more a presence, a ghost that lingered in the corners where the candlelight dared not reach. I was twelve years old, a small, trembling thing in a dress made of scratchy wool, and I sat on a stool that wobbled under...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Catherine Merritt ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-18 18:35:41 -
    The Golden Harbor
    The frost on the windowpane was thick as old glass. "Did you see it?" asked Elias. His voice was a dry leaf scraping across stone. He stood by the hearth, his shadow long and thin against the whitewashed wall of the cottage in Harrowgate. He did not turn to look at me. He was looking at the fire, or perhaps through it, into some cold place where time had stopped. I sat in the armchair, my hands...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (302651-302660 di 412367)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 30264
  • 30265
  • 30266
  • 30267
  • 30268
  • 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