0 Comments
0 Shares
3 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Pale MeridianThe rain fell in sheets, gray and relentless, blurring the edges of the city into a smear of wet stone and neon. I stood on the balcony, the metal railing cold against my palms, watching the streetlights flicker in the downpour. My uniform was soaked, the wool heavy and dark, clinging to my shoulders like a shroud. I had just left the precinct. The file was closed. Or so they said. Inside, the...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful AsylumThe banquet hall of St. Jude’s Asylum for the Elderly was not a place for ghosts, at least not in the way the brochures promised. It was a place for the living who had forgotten how to be such, a sprawling expanse of mahogany and velvet where the air smelled of stale perfume and industrial floor wax. Elias Thorne sat at the far end of the table, his hands folded over a porcelain plate that had...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ApartmentThe rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that erased the horizon and turned the world into a series of blurred, waterlogged reflections. Elias Thorne stepped off the train at the station, the air hitting him with a chill that felt less like temperature and more like a physical weight, a dense, atmospheric pressure that seemed to press against his eardrums. He carried...0 Comments 0 Shares 30 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MasterThe mist did not lift. It hung low over the valley of Ashwood, a white shroud that smelled of wet wool and old iron. I was seven years old. My name was Arthur. I wore a coat that was too big, the hem brushing the mud with every step. The town was gone. Or rather, the town was a lie we told ourselves to keep from screaming. We lived in the Gray. A place where the sky was the color of dishwater...0 Comments 0 Shares 6 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CellarHe dreamed of the cellar. It was not a dream of darkness, but of gold. Liquid amber poured from the cracks in the stone, filling the air with a heavy, sweet scent. He stood there, naked, waiting. The light did not hurt. It just waited for him to accept it. He woke. The ceiling was white. The light was gray. "Up," the voice said. It was not a shout. It was a flat command. Thomas opened his eyes....0 Comments 0 Shares 24 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant TempleThe rain had not stopped for three days. It slicked the cobblestones of Blackwood Lane into a mirror of grey. Elias Thorne walked. His boots were wet. The leather had warped. It smelled of rot and iron. He carried a coat. It was red. Not a bright red. A deep, arterial crimson. The wool was heavy. It dragged at his shoulder. He was a constable. Or he had been. The badge was in his pocket. It...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ShadowsThe house was dying. It breathed with a slow, rattling exhalation. I watched the dust motes dance. They moved in slow circles. They were suspended in the air. They did not fall. I sat in the chair. My legs were stiff. I had not moved in hours. The light was pale. It came through the glass. It hit the floorboards. The floorboards were cold. I pulled my coat tighter. The wool scratched my neck....0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseThe rain against the single pane of glass was not a sound but a weight, a constant, rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of your bones. You sat in the chair by the window, the leather creaking under the shift of your weight, and watched the water streak down the glass in long, erratic tears. In your lap lay the coat. It was a heavy thing, wool of a deep, absorbing black, cut...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale CircusThe ink is dry. You look at the file. Your name is redacted. You are a ghost in the machine. The building hums. It is a low, sick sound. Like a dog with a bone in its throat. You are in the lobby. The marble is cold. It bites through your shoes. You stand still. Your hands are at your sides. They do not shake. You have trained them not to. You are a soldier. Or you were. Now you are just a man...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek