0 Comments
0 Shares
29 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Faded AtticThe jar sat on the counter. It was glass, thick and green, filled with a liquid that had turned the color of old tea. It was not medicine. It was not food. It was the residue of a life, distilled into a sludge that smelled of copper and rot. Eleanor stood before it, her hand hovering, trembling. She did not touch it. She could not. "You're staring at it again," said Silas. His voice was soft,...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BonsaiThe dream began not with light, but with the heavy, wet silence of a room that had been sealed for a century. I was standing in the center of a circular space, the walls curved and white, like the inside of a vast, hollowed-out bone. The air tasted of ozone and old paper, a flavor that clung to the back of my throat and refused to dissipate. In the center of this sterile, humming void stood a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful LetterThe dream was not a dream but a thick, viscous layer of silence that coated the inside of Elara’s skull, a heavy, suffocating blanket woven from the scent of rotting apples and the metallic tang of old blood, and in that suspended void she stood in the center of the Grand Hall of the Ashworth Institute, a place that had once been a stately manor but had been repurposed, through a series of...0 Comments 0 Shares 26 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden OathThe door closed behind me with a finality that felt like a bone breaking. I was the last to leave. The others had already gone, their footprints soft in the wet earth, fading into the mist that rolled off the reservoir. I stood alone in the yard, the air tasting of iron and old rain. My name is Elias Thorne. I had served my time. Or so I told myself. The walls of Blackgate had held me for seven...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden EchoesThe leaden rain drummed against the warped glass of the high ceiling, a rhythmic, insistent tapping that mirrored the pounding in Elias Thorne’s temples as he stood in the center of the abandoned textile factory, holding the small, iridescent beetle in his cupped, trembling hands, its carapace shimmering with a gold that seemed to burn through the gloom of the damp, rotting world surrounding...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BridgeThe harvest festival in the village of Oakhaven was a suffocating affair, a dense thicket of roasted pork, fermented cider, and the heavy, perfumed breath of the townspeople, all swirling around the great stone arch that spanned the muddy creek which bisected the town. It was a structure of pale, weathered limestone, ancient and silent, standing in stark contrast to the gaudy bunting and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MythThe copper pipes in the basement of the St. Jude’s Industrial Orphanage and Home for the Aged, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity of soot-stained brick and iron latticework that dominated the fog-choked valley of Newcastle upon Tyne, ran with a viscous, amber-colored slurry that the administration called "nutrient concentrate" but which smelled, to my nose, of rotting sugar and industrial waste,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded SutraI have carried the weight of my own silence for forty years, a burden that has calcified in my bones and turned my spine into a rigid, brittle staff of thorns, and I am only now, on this final and most bitter leg of my pilgrimage through the white, indifferent snows of the Highlands, beginning to understand that the silence was not a punishment inflicted upon me by the world, but a weapon I had...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful VoyageThe banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and expensive decay. It was a scent that clung to the velvet drapes and the polished mahogany of the long tables, a heavy, cloying perfume that felt less like food and more like a sedative. I sat at the end of the table, my fingers white-knuckled around a crystal goblet of wine that had turned to vinegar in the heat of the room. Around me, the senior...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek