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
  • Charlotte Winthrop ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:01 -
    The Distant Threshold
    The mirror shatters. Not with a crash, but with a sigh. A long, exhaled grief that fills the stone chamber, settling into the cracks of the flagstones like damp dust. You are left standing in the silence, the shards of glass scattered at your feet like teeth pulled from a jaw. You look down. Your reflection is gone. Only the void remains, a black pool that does not ripple when you move. This is...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Lockhart ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:38 -
    The Wistful Voyage
    The ledger of the Inquisitor’s office was bound in leather so dark it seemed to absorb the candlelight, a heavy volume that smelled of tallow and old dust. Thomas Bradshaw sat at the desk, his fingers resting on the spine, feeling the grain of the hide beneath his skin. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; the distinction had blurred in the damp, fog-choked air of the monastery, where the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:21:00 -
    The Wistful Voyage
    The sky was a bruised purple. Not the sky above. The sky inside the machine. Ellis was six. He held the brass lever tight. It was warm. It hummed against his palm like a sleeping cat. "Steady, lad," said Mr. Thorne. Mr. Thorne did not have a body. He was a voice in the wires. A low, grinding static. He sounded like rain on a tin roof. He sounded like the clock in the hall. Ellis looked at the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Nathaniel Ashworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:00 -
    The Golden Ritual
    The mortar and pestle struck together with a sound like a bone snapping, a sharp, wet crack that echoed through the sterile, stone-walled infirmary of the Abbey of St. Jude. Brother Anselm, the Head Pharmacist, did not look up from his work. He was a man of considerable stature, his robes heavy with the dust of a hundred dried herbs, his face a mask of professional dispassion. Around him, the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Vivian Thorne ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:23:02 -
    The Distant Blade
    The blade struck the shield. Sparks flew like dying stars. I held my ground. The impact jarred my teeth. My arms trembled. Not from fear. From exhaustion. The man opposite me was a ghost. A blur of steel and fury. He wanted my life. He wanted the seal on my belt. The seal was ink. The seal was law. The seal was a lie. I am a Keeper. We keep the peace in Ashworth. We keep the silence in the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Nathaniel Merritt ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:29 -
    The Distant Threshold
    Walter woke with the taste of iron in his mouth. The shop was dark. Dust motes drifted in the single beam of moonlight that cut through the window. He sat up. His hands were shaking. He looked at them. They were his hands. Brown, scarred, thick with calluses. The hands of a man who had fixed clocks for forty years. He stood. His knees popped. He was old. He felt it in the bone. The door was...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Silas Ashcroft ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:21:22 -
    The Faded Portrait
    The rain hit the pavement in hard, gray sheets. It did not stop. Inside the station, the air was stale. It smelled of wet wool and old coffee. Silas Vance stood by the window. He watched the street. His hands shook. He tried to stop them. They did not listen. He was fifty-five. He looked eighty. The uniform hung loose on his frame. It had once fit tight. Now it swayed with him like a shroud....
    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
    2026-08-19 05:22:22 -
    The Golden Ritual
    The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray sheet that turned the cobblestones of the estate’s drive into a slick, weeping mirror. Inside the Grand Hall, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool and old varnish. Margaret Holloway stood before the long, mahogany table, her fingers resting lightly on the polished surface. The table was a relic of the previous century, a beast...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • James Fenwick ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:15 -
    The Pale Protocol
    The rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a cold, wet static that coated the windows of the observation deck in a film of grey. I sat with my back to the glass, feeling the vibration of the engines in the soles of my bare feet, a low hum that seemed to resonate in the marrow of my bones. It was a strange kind of silence, this one. Not the absence of sound, but the presence of a held...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Ellsworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 05:22:24 -
    The Wistful Letter
    The rain in Harrowgate did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones into mirrors of a sky that had forgotten how to be blue. Thomas Bradshaw walked with the heavy, rhythmic cadence of a man whose bones had been set by duty and broken by time. He was a deputy sheriff, a title that held little weight in a town that had long since stopped fearing the law...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (330491-330500 di 347959)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 33048
  • 33049
  • 33050
  • 33051
  • 33052
  • 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