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 RiverI woke with the taste of iron and wet moss in my mouth, a sensation so visceral it seemed to bypass my tongue and settle directly into the marrow of my bones, as if I had been drinking the earth itself while I slept, and for a long moment I could not distinguish the cold dampness of the straw beneath me from the actual chill of the stone walls that enclosed us, a chill that had seeped into the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded PhotographThe dream begins not with sight, but with the cold, wet weight of the earth against your palms. You are digging. The soil is black and heavy, clinging to your skin like a second skin, and the air tastes of iron and rain. You do not know why you are digging, only that the hole must be deep enough. Your hands are raw, the nails torn back, and the pain is a dull, rhythmic throb that synchronizes...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant SummerThe train does not so much stop at the station of Ashenmoor as it exhales into the mist, a long, shuddering breath of steam that blurs the boundary between the iron tracks and the grey, weeping earth. You step down onto the platform, your boots heavy with the dust of the journey, and you feel the weight of the iron case in your hands, a cold, solid anchor in a world that seems to be slowly...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MazeThe ink on the parchment was still wet when Aldric set down his quill, the smell of oak gall and iron sharp in the air. It was a scent that had permeated his skin over thirty years, binding him to the Great Hall of the Archivum, a place of silence and dust where the history of the realm was not written, but merely preserved. He looked at the name he had just scrawled. It was a forgery. A small...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ShieldMara sat alone. The hall was cold. Stone walls. High ceilings. Dust motes danced in the moonlight. She held the shield. It was faded. Once it gleamed. Now it was dull. Gray. Like old bone. She was the Keeper. That was her title. No one else held it. The court whispered. They feared her. They loved her. Or they thought they did. Love was a heavy thing. Heavier than the shield. Her husband stood...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful PetalThe office was a white cube. We were a white cube. I was a white cube. My hand was red. It hung down by my side. It did not move. It was the only color in the room. The red was bright. It was alive. The rest of us were dead. We sat in the chair. We looked at the screen. The screen was blue. The light was cold. I looked at my hand. The hand looked at me. It was my hand. But it was not me. It was...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale FractureThe dream always started with the sound of tearing silk. Not the soft rip of a shirt, but the violent, wet tear of something alive. I woke in my cell in the undercroft of the Keep, the stone damp against my back, my mouth dry as chalk. I was still Sergeant. Or at least, I had been, before the ink dried on my dismissal. The walls here were thick, built to keep out the cold of the northern winds,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden VisitThe heating system in the municipal archive failed at four in the afternoon, a silent rupture that left the corridors filled with a stagnant, cold air that tasted of dust and old paper, and you stood there, holding a clipboard, watching the digital temperature display flicker from twelve degrees to eleven, knowing that the solution was not a repair but a departure, because the building was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden FarceThe wind in Oakhaven does not blow. It hammers. It is a physical thing, a gray fist that pummels the shingles until they rattle in their sockets. I remember the sound. I remember the cold. I remember the smell of wet wool and woodsmoke that clung to my skin for days. We were young then. Or at least, we thought we were. We had the kind of time that stretches like taffy, thick and sweet and...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek