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 Faded PortraitThe seal on the amphora was cracked. It was a thin, jagged line, like a scar on old parchment, running from the rim to the base. Serpent. That was the name of the artifact, though it was not a snake. It was a vessel of dark clay, glazed in a blue so deep it looked like the ocean floor, and inside it, something breathed. Not air. Not water. Something older. Thomas Ashworth held it in his gloved...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ShowThe rain hit the asphalt in sheets, gray and relentless. It blurred the streetlights into halos of sick yellow. Inside the precinct, the air smelled of wet wool and stale coffee. Detective Elias Thorne sat in his chair. He did not move. He looked at his hands. They were old hands. The knuckles were swollen. The skin was paper-thin over bone. He was fifty-six. He felt the weight of the years in...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded GuestYou are holding the door. It is a heavy oak thing, iron-banded, set into a wall of wet brick that weeps with condensation. You are a sergeant in the 9th Mechanized Infantry. Your uniform is gray wool, stiff with sweat and old blood. You grip the handle. You do not let go. The corridor stretches out behind you. It is not a corridor. It is a throat. The air tastes of copper and ozone. The lights...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale PathI woke with the taste of iron in my mouth. The dream was gone, but the weight of it remained. It pressed on my chest, a cold stone. We were in the coal town of Barrow, Pennsylvania. The air was thick. It tasted of sulfur and wet ash. I stood on the ridge above the mine. The sky was the color of a bruise. Purple. Swollen. "You're late, Jack," the man said. He stood in the shadows of a timber...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ApartmentThe rain in the city of Ashford did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a dense, industrial fog that tasted of coal smoke and wet rust, clinging to the wool coat of Captain Elias Thorne as he sat alone in the back of the cab. He was a man who had spent the last five years learning the precise geometry of violence, how a bullet traveled through flesh, how a door swung on its hinges, how a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale AltarThe hand left. That was the first thing. It did not fade. It did not dissolve. It simply ceased to be there, leaving a negative space in the air that felt colder than the winter wind. Margot stood in the hallway. The door was open. Beyond it, the grey light of the city pressed against the glass. Inside, the apartment was silent. The silence had teeth. She looked at her other hand. It was whole....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden DowntownThe dust in the library does not settle; it drifts, a slow, gray snow that coats the spines of the law books and the velvet of the armchairs, a fine powder that gets into the creases of your hands and the corners of your mouth. You are the investigator, though you hold no badge, only a ledger of debts and a memory for faces. The house is old, built in the age when stones were laid by hand and...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful AsylumThe sky above the valley of Aethelgard had turned the color of a bruised plum, a bruise that had been forming for three centuries, swelling with the heavy, stagnant weight of a curse that no priest could name and no sword could break, while Sir Kaelen, whose armor had once gleamed with the pride of the King’s own guard, now walked with a limp that spoke not of battle wounds but of a soul slowly...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden OathThe bell rang for the third time. It was a dull, iron sound that vibrated in the teeth. Elara stood in the courtyard. The cobblestones were wet. Mist clung to the stones like a ghost. She wore the gray tunic of a minor scribe. Her hair was bound tight. It made her head feel small. She was nineteen. She had written for ten years. She had copied ledgers. She had transcribed laws. She had recorded...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek