0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful MountainThe sword was already broken when Thomas found it, bent like a question mark in the mud of the courtyard. It lay there, a twisted iron tongue, waiting to be swallowed by the earth. The rain had stopped, but the air still hung heavy, thick with the smell of wet stone and old blood. Thomas, no older than twelve, knelt in the muck. His knees hurt. His hands shook. He looked at the blade, then at...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded DustThe bell in the tower of St. Jude’s did not ring; it groaned. It was a low, tectonic sound that seemed to rise from the foundations of the earth rather than the air above, vibrating in the marrow of anyone who stood within the thick stone walls. Margaret Holloway stood near the altar, her fingers interlaced so tightly the knuckles turned white, watching the dust motes dance in the single beam...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ProtocolThe watch sat on the table. It was a heavy thing. Black enamel. Cold to the touch. I held it. My fingers were steady. They had been steady for forty years. I was a man of procedure. A man of silence. The room was quiet. Too quiet. The clock on the wall ticked. It was a loud sound. It filled the space. It was the only thing moving. I looked at the watch. The face was cracked. A single fracture....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RootThe root was cracking. I could feel it in my teeth. "Stabilize the lateral tension," I said. My voice was flat. Professional. "Already done, David," Sarah replied. She didn't look up from the console. Her hands moved over the haptic interface with a precision that felt like surgery. "It’s the depth variance. It’s exceeding the tolerance by four percent." I closed my eyes. Behind my eyelids, the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CellarThe fog rolled off the River Thames like a wet wool blanket, settling into the cobbled streets of Southwark with a damp, suffocating weight. Elias Thorne walked with his collar turned up, his boots striking a hollow rhythm against the stone. He was a man who had spent thirty years in the service of silence, a private investigator who dealt in debts that could not be paid and secrets that bled....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden HarborThe bell rang. We danced. The floorboard creaked. It was a good night. The air smelled of coal dust and old perfume. I watched the door. It never opened. I am a man of numbers. I know the value of things. A copper wire costs three pence. A life costs nothing. Or so they said. The town was grey. The smoke was thick. It sat on the roof like a shroud. We were all sick. We coughed in the streets....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe rain fell on the cobblestones of the courtyard. It was a hard rain. Cold. It soaked into the wool of Maren’s cloak. She stood by the iron gate. Her hands were balled into fists. The mud sucked at her boots. Inside, the hall was warm. The fire crackled. The smell of roasting meat hung in the air. She could hear the laughter. It was a low, rumbling sound. Like stones grinding together. Maren...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RiverThe rain hits the window. You count the drops. One. Two. Three. The water runs down the glass in thin, frantic lines. You are tired. Your bones ache with a cold that does not leave you. It is a deep, structural cold. It lives in the marrow. You look down at your hands. They are wrapped in bandages. The gauze is soaked. It is not blood. It is something else. It is the sweat of a fever that will...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful Asylum"You missed the count." The voice was not loud. It did not need to be. It hung in the air, thin and sharp as a wire. I looked up. The guard stood at the bottom of the stairs, his uniform a blur of grey and steel. I held the object in my hands. It was small. Cold. It was the only thing I had left. "I was in the washroom," I said. My voice sounded far away. It did not sound like my voice. It...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek