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
  • James Bradshaw ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:49 -
    The Wistful Letter
    He woke with the taste of iron in his mouth. The room was dark. The air smelled of wet wool and old stone. Elias sat up. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. He looked at his hands. They were trembling. Not from cold. From fear. He was a constable in the village of Blackthorn. Or he had been. The title felt heavy now. A stone in his pocket. He remembered the border. The path. The line in the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Catherine Hartwell ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:29 -
    The Faded Guest
    I woke with the taste of wet earth on my tongue and the sound of the rain hammering against the leaded glass of the window, a rhythmic, insistent drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of my skull. I lay still for a long moment, listening to the storm rage outside the high walls of Blackwood Hall, feeling the dampness seep into the floorboards beneath my bare feet, a coldness...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Ashworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:54:43 -
    The Distant Clue
    The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the windowpane of my office in the precinct, a steady, rhythmic tapping that sounded less like weather and more like a countdown. I sat behind the desk, my hands resting on the surface, fingers laced together. On the desk, between my coffee mug and a stack of case files, sat the brass compass. It was old, the casing tarnished by years...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Josephine Merritt ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:34 -
    The Pale Altar
    The chapel was not a building in the way you would understand a building. It was a lung. It breathed. I had come here to study the masonry, a task that required a steady hand and a steady mind, both of which I was rapidly losing. I was a scholar of ruins, a man who made his living by documenting what was left behind, by assigning dates to dust and giving names to silence. It was respectable...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Lockhart ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:59 -
    The Distant Crown
    The dream was not of flight, but of a slow, grinding dissolution, where the air itself felt heavy with the scent of iron filings and wet wool. Thomas Wakefield stood in a field that did not exist, a landscape of grey mud and broken reeds, watching as a golden coin, no larger than a thumbnail, hovered before him. It was not shining; it was dull, tarnished by the same invisible soot that clung to...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Henry Lockhart ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:42 -
    The Golden Echoes
    The champagne is cold. It sits in the crystal flutes, trembling with the vibration of the orchestra. You hold one in your hand, the stem thin as a vein, your fingers white-knuckled against the glass. The ballroom is a sea of silk and satin, a swirling galaxy of wealth that feels less like a celebration and more like a cage. You are standing near the pillar, watching the dancers. They move with...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Vivian Whitmore ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:56:04 -
    The Wistful Petal
    The rain in New Caledonia did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain that blurred the iron skeletons of the factories and the soot-stained faces of the workers. Elias Thorne moved through the street with the heavy, deliberate grace of a man who had long ago ceased to be surprised by the weight of the air. He was a large man, built like the old shipyards, broad in the shoulder and silent in...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Beatrice Ellsworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:54 -
    The Faded Masquerade
    I woke with the taste of iron and old dust on my tongue, the air thick and heavy as wet wool, pressing against my lungs in a rhythm that did not feel like my own. I was lying on a floor of polished obsidian, smooth and cold, reflecting a sky that had no sun but instead a vast, swirling nebula of bruised purple and sickly green, the colors shifting and churning like oil on water, a sky that...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Silas Fairchild ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:57 -
    The Wistful Skyline
    The train cut through the fog like a hot knife through cold butter, a long, iron serpent shedding steam and soot as it slowed its pace toward the terminus of Millhaven, a town that sat in the shadow of the great smelting works where the air itself tasted of copper and old blood. Eleanor Vane stepped down from the car, her boots sinking slightly into the mud that had been churned by weeks of...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Hartwell ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-19 16:55:33 -
    The Pale Bridge
    The rain did not fall so much as it was squeezed out of the grey, bruised sky, a heavy, relentless weeping that turned the cobblestones of the old town into a slick, treacherous mirror reflecting the hollow faces of the passersby who hurried with their heads bowed against the wind. You stood at the edge of the precipice, your boots sinking into the mud that smelled of rot and ancient iron, the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (359611-359620 di 504259)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 35960
  • 35961
  • 35962
  • 35963
  • 35964
  • 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