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 Distant GardenYou are bleeding, a bright, hot river of crimson sliding down your temple to mix with the rain on the cobblestones, and the world has narrowed down to the single, grinding point where your boot meets the chest of the man who has just tried to kill you, a man named Lord Arthur Vane who wears his cruelty like a tailored suit, smooth and expensive and utterly devoid of the human shiver that should...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CampusThe building was dying, and no one seemed to care enough to stop it. It stood at the edge of the city’s financial district, a brutalist slab of gray concrete that had once been a temple to order and efficiency. Now, it was a husk. The windows on the upper floors were shattered, jagged teeth against the skyline, letting the wind whistle through the hollow corridors. The air smelled of wet...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MachineThe rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of the old district into a slick, black mirror that reflected the gray sky in fractured shards. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the pier, his coat heavy with water, watching the small boat cut a white line through the churning harbor. His daughter, Clara, was not on the boat. She was here, standing beside him, her hand gripping...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded QuadrantThe rain tapped against the windowpane. A steady, rhythmic drumming. Elias stood in the kitchen. His hands shook. Not from cold. From the weight of the silence. "Did you hear that?" his son asked. Arthur was seven. He sat at the table. His eyes were wide. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath them. He had not slept in two days. Elias had not slept in two weeks. "I heard it," Elias said. His...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe bell in the tower of St. Jude’s University rang not with the clear, silver peal that summoned students to chapel, but with a dull, heavy thud, like a fist striking a bruised rib. It was the sound of the Council in session, a sound that had not been heard in forty years, a sound that meant judgment. In the cramped office on the third floor, where the dust motes danced in the slanting...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MasterThe rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey dust that smelled of wet wool and old iron. I stood in the center of the sterile interrogation room, my hands cuffed behind my back, the metal biting into the tendons of my wrists. Across from me, Officer Miller sat with his notebook open, his pen hovering over the paper like a hesitant bird. He was a young man, clean-shaven, with...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant MetropolisThe dream began, as it always did, with the weight of the wool. It was not the comfort of a heavy quilt but the oppressive, damp drag of a coat that had been soaked through by rain and dried out in the sun a hundred times, leaving the fibers brittle and the seams frayed. Major Elias Thorne stood in a room that had no walls, only a horizon of gray static that hummed at a frequency just below the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MythThe silk was the color of a bruise that had finally settled, a deep, arterial purple that seemed to drink the dim light of the study. Dr. Elias Thorne held it up, not with the reverent care of an appraiser, but with the weary, aching precision of a man holding his own reflection in a cracked mirror. The fabric was heavy, dense, woven with threads that caught the eye like trapped insects,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant CrownThe rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain between the world and us. It was cold. The kind of cold that settles in the bones and stays there, refusing to leave even after the sun breaks through. I looked at the mud. It was thick. Black. It sucked at my boots with a sound like a slow, wet breath. "Is he gone?" I asked. My voice sounded strange. Thin. It was the voice of a boy, not...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek