0 Comments
0 Shares
2 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful VoyageThe rain has been falling on the cobblestones of the old town for three days, a relentless, gray sheet that turns the gutters into rushing streams of mud and rust, and you stand in the doorway of the apothecary, holding a clay bowl that smells of wet earth and crushed sage, your fingers trembling not from the cold but from the sheer, terrifying weight of the choice you are about to make. You...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded FrontierThe bell tower was a mouth. It hung over the city of Oakhaven like a jaw about to snap shut. I dreamed of it every night. The stone was not stone. It was bone. I touched the cold, jagged edge in my sleep. I woke with dust on my tongue. I am a seeker. I look for cracks. In the plaster. In the soul. In the law. The law of Oakhaven is simple. The tower must feed. It eats the debt. My name is Elias...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden DowntownThe church stood in the center of the town of Oakhaven not as a place of worship, but as a monument to a silence that had grown too heavy for the stone walls to contain. It was a building of such profound and aching beauty that it seemed to draw the light of the afternoon into its stained-glass windows and hold it there, trapped in amber, refusing to let it go. Margaret Holloway sat in the back...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CampusThe storm broke at noon. Not a gradual gray. Not a slow dampening of light. It was a rupture. The sky over the university quad snapped open like a wet leather jacket. Rain did not fall. It hammered. It erased the cobblestones. It erased the statues of dead professors. It erased the world as Dr. Elias Thorne knew it. He stood on the balcony of the Humanities tower. His lab coat clung to his...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseThe eye was wrong. It sat in the socket of the mannequin, staring at nothing. I stood in the center of the hall. The air tasted of copper and dust. We were soldiers here. Or we had been. The uniform hung on my frame like a second skin. It was heavy. It was old. The fabric smelled of smoke that had died decades ago. My name is Elias. I remember this. I remember the rank. I remember the orders....0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ApartmentThe great oak tree in the center of the courtyard had split down the middle, a jagged scar of white wood bleeding sap into the rain, and the sound of the crack was not like wood breaking but like a bone snapping in the dark, a sound that reverberated through the stone foundations of the palace and into the marrow of the king, who stood upon the balcony with his hands trembling so violently that...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinThe iron gate at the edge of the town of Oakhaven was not locked, but it was rusted shut. It had been that way for three years, ever since the Commission sent the men in gray coats to dismantle the fences that divided the properties. They said the fences were symbols of greed. They said the gates were symbols of exclusion. They were right, in a way. But what they did not understand was that the...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded DustYou dream of the tower again. It is not a tower of stone, but of bone. It is the spine of the world, white and bleached, stretching into a sky the color of old ash. You are standing at the base, looking up. The air tastes of copper and wet wool. You know you should be afraid. You are not. You are only tired. The exhaustion is a physical weight, a lead apron draped over your shoulders, pulling...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BonsaiThe wall was breathing. I felt it against my cheek. A cold, rhythmic shudder. The concrete of Cell 4B did not feel like stone. It felt like skin. It was the skin of something vast and dead. I pressed my palm flat. The plaster was damp. It was not sweat. It was sap. The institution had no name. It was simply The System. It hummed in the pipes. It ticked in the clocks. It was a machine built for...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek