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
  • Thomas Pemberton ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:28 -
    The Faded Frequency
    The bus smelled of wet wool and diesel. Clara sat by the window, watching the rain smear the gray sky against the glass. She was late. She was always late. The vibration of the engine hummed in her bones, a low, sickly thrum that matched the ache in her left knee. It was a bad knee. A knee that betrayed her when the cold came, or when the pressure dropped. She rubbed it with a hand that felt...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Julian Pemberton ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:22 -
    The Distant Threshold
    The rain did not fall. It hammered. Marek stood on the ridge. His coat was soaked. The wool had turned to mud. He held the mirror in his left hand. It was broken. A jagged line cut through the glass. It cut his palm too. He did not feel the blood. He felt the cold. He had walked for three days. The path was gone. The trees were black. The sky was grey. He was a soldier. He had left the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 6 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Margaret Ellsworth ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:56 -
    The Distant Threshold
    The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a grey, suffocating curtain that blurred the edges of the world. I sat on the porch of the rented shack, the wood slick beneath my palms, watching the fog eat the tree line. My hands were shaking. Not from the cold, though the damp had seeped into my bones and settled there like a second skeleton. It was the hunger. A hollow, gnawing thing...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Julian Fairchild ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:17 -
    The Distant Whispers
    The bus hissed to a stop in the rain. I stepped off. The city smelled of wet asphalt and ozone. I was a cop. I was old. I was alone. My father’s house stood at the end of the street. It was a brick box. Red brick. It was rotting. The ivy strangled the windows. It looked like a wound that would not heal. I carried a bag. It was heavy. It contained my badge. It contained my pension papers. It...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 5 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Nathaniel Calloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:26 -
    The Faded River
    The sycamore tree in the front yard is dying, and you know it in the way you know the tide is turning, not by looking at the water, but by the salt taste on your lips. It is a slow, terrible rot, starting from the roots and working its way up into the high branches, a silent fire that eats the wood without heat. You have been in this town of Ashford for three years, long enough to learn the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Thomas Greene ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:34:30 -
    The Wistful Mountain
    The train did not slow. It simply ceased to be a vehicle of arrival and became a vessel of departure, lurching forward with a rhythmic, mechanical heartbeat that thumped against the iron plates of the carriage floor. Thomas stood by the window, his reflection a ghostly smudge of grey wool and pale skin superimposed over the rushing dark of the industrial valley. Outside, the smokestacks of the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Charlotte Winthrop ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:34:28 -
    The Faded Quadrant
    You wake in the white room. The light is flat. It has no source. It presses against your skin like a damp cloth. You are still. Your hands are bound. Not with rope. With silence. You know this place. You have been here before. In dreams. In the dark of the barracks. In the hours after the shooting. The air tastes of metal. Of old pennies. You try to speak. No sound comes. Your throat is a dry...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Nathaniel Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:34:32 -
    The Golden Echoes
    The train cuts through the fog like a hot knife through cold butter. You feel the vibration in your teeth before you see the station. It is not a station of stone and mortar, but of glass and suspended dust, floating in a void that hums with a low, industrial thrum. You step off the carriage, your boots heavy on the platform, which is made of polished obsidian. In your hands, you carry the...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • James Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:36:07 -
    The Distant Crown
    Mara walked. The road was white. It was made of bone. It stretched into a fog that tasted of iron and old dust. She walked alone. Her boots were heavy. They were iron-shod. They rang against the calcified earth. Each ring echoed. The sound did not fade. It stayed with her. It followed her like a dog. She carried a crown. It was not gold. It was not silver. It was made of glass. It was clear. It...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Charlotte Holloway ha aggiunto una foto Literature
    2026-08-20 07:35:49 -
    The Distant Journey
    The air in the sub-basement of the St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital smelled of wet plaster and antiseptic, a thick, cloying scent that hung in the low ceiling like a visible fog. Arthur Penhaligon sat on a plastic chair that wobbled under his weight, his hands resting on his knees, fingers stained a faint, bruised purple from the chemical compounds he had been handling all day. He was a technician...
    0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
    Effettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
  • Mostrati (396961-396970 di 467990)
  • «
  • Prec.
  • 39695
  • 39696
  • 39697
  • 39698
  • 39699
  • 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