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 Faded ApartmentThe rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a cold, wet mist that clung to the wool of my coat and seeped into the bones. I walked through the streets of the old quarter, where the cobblestones were slick and black, reflecting the dim gaslight of the streetlamps that flickered against the encroaching dark. I was a man of the law, or at least I had been, until the budget cuts and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseThe train did not stop because it was scheduled to, but because the air itself had grown too thick to part. It shuddered to a halt in a landscape that defied the geography of the British countryside, a place where the fog was not a weather phenomenon but a physical substance, grey and heavy as wet wool, clinging to the carriages of the locomotive. Elias Thorne pressed his forehead against the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant TempleThe morning mist clung to the valley floor like a shroud woven from the breath of the dead, and Professor Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the cliff, his fingers trembling against the cold iron of the gate that separated the mundane world from the whispering woods below. He had spent thirty years studying the old texts, the faded manuscripts that spoke of a place where time did not flow but...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe stone tower did not breathe. It stood against the grey belly of the city, a vertical silence in a world that screamed. It was old, older than the cobblestones that curled around its base like dried veins, older than the laws that governed the merchants below. It was a structure of pure geometry, unadorned and cold, rising into the mist with a stubbornness that defied the wind. To the people...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectThe feast of the Harvest Moon had turned the great hall of Ashworth Manor into a cauldron of noise, sweat, and the heavy, cloying scent of roasted boar and spilled wine, and you stood at the edge of the dancing crowd, watching the golden light catch the dust motes that swirled in the air like trapped souls. Your name is Thomas, though you have forgotten how to feel it as yours, and you are only...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded PhotographThe room smells of wet wool and iron. You sit in the plastic chair. The chair squeaks. It is a small sound. It cuts the silence. You are a soldier. You have been a soldier for ten years. Your hands are still. Your hands do not shake. You look at the man across from you. He is an officer. He is older. His hair is gray. He looks at you. His eyes are cold. He does not blink. Who did this, Thomas?...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant WoundThe pin was gone. It was not lost, nor had it been misplaced in the static-charged shuffle of your wool cardigan; it had been taken, plucked from the lapel with the delicate, surgical precision of a man who knows exactly where the blood is thickest. You remember the weight of it, that cold, metallic anchor that held the red enamel brooch in place, a small, defiant splash of color against the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MazeI woke from a dream that was not a dream, but a memory of a future that had already passed. It was the memory of a house with no doors, where the walls were made of compressed whispers, and I was standing in the center of a room that kept expanding, trying to find the exit. I was not alone in that space. There was a figure standing by the window, her back to me, wearing a coat the color of...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SagaThe rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the high windows of the Hall, a persistent, hollow rhythm that sounded like knuckles rapping on a skull. Elias sat in his chair. He did not move. His hands were still on the armrests. They were white. They were still. The air in the room was thick. It smelled of wet wool and old paper. There was a coldness that seeped through the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek