0 Comments
0 Shares
10 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Distant PromiseThe rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray veil that blurred the edges of the estate and turned the stone walls into slick, dark mirrors. Inside the main hall of Ashworth Manor, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that seemed to linger in the floorboards. Elias stood by the fireplace, his hands trembling slightly as he...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CampusThe mortar between the stones of the old chapel was failing, a slow erosion that you could feel in the dampness of the air, a humidity that clung to your skin like a second, colder layer of flesh. You were there to mend it, or so you told the Archdeacon, a man whose voice was as dry and brittle as the parchment he hoarded in his office. You believed you were a mason, a woman of stone and lime,...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful AtlasThe clock is a beast of brass and mahogany. It stands in the corner of the parlor, its pendulum a heavy, swinging weight that cuts the air with a rhythmic, mechanical violence. You hold the key. It is cold. It is small. It fits into your palm like a secret, like a bullet, like a bone pulled from the flesh. The room is full of people. They are dressed in silk and wool, their faces bright with...0 Comments 0 Shares 9 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant WhispersThe heavy oak table in the War Room was not a place for rest, but for the slow, grinding work of statecraft, and it was there that Commander Elias Thorne sat, his hands resting on the polished surface like a man waiting for a train that had long since departed. The room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of gas lamps that hissed softly in the corners, casting long, trembling shadows that...0 Comments 0 Shares 32 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe wine was thick and dark as old blood, pooling in the clay cups we passed along the rough-hewn table, and I watched the candlelight dance on the curved neck of the jug, thinking how easily one could mistake the reflection of a flame for the soul of the man holding it, especially when the night was young and the air smelled of wet wool and roasted lamb, and I, being a man of few words and...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded QuadrantThe sirens did not wail. They screamed. A raw, tearing sound that split the gray dawn over the city. I stood at the edge of the river, my boots sinking into the wet mud. The bridge behind me was gone. Not broken. Gone. A void where the steel and concrete had been, replaced by a swirling mist that smelled of ozone and old blood. I looked at my hands. They were steady. They were always steady....0 Comments 0 Shares 9 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestThe mist did not roll in. It stood up. Elara stood at the edge of the pier. The wood was slick with black algae. She held the lantern. It was cold. The glass was thin. "Are you ready?" said Thomas. He did not look at her. He looked at the fog. His coat was grey. It blended with the water. "I am," she said. Her voice was small. It did not carry. The wind took it. They had come to the Threshold....0 Comments 0 Shares 21 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MachineThe letter was warm. That was the first thing I noticed. Not the ink, which was faded to a bruised purple, but the heat radiating from the parchment. It had been sitting in my breast pocket for three days. I had not taken it out. I had not opened it. I could feel the weight of it against my sternum, a second heartbeat, erratic and faint. "Is it true?" Thomas asked. He did not look at me. He...0 Comments 0 Shares 25 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BonsaiThe smell of burnt sugar and old parchment hung in the air, a thick, cloying mist that seemed to have no source other than my own frantic, trembling mind, as I sat in the cramped, stone-vaulted office of the Municipal Bureau of Culinary Standards, watching the light from the single, high-set window slice through the dust motes like a pale, indifferent knife, cutting the room into shards of...0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek