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 Pale BridgeThe vial in Elias Thorne’s hand was cold, a heavy cylinder of glass containing a liquid so pale it seemed to drain the light from the cellar air, a viscous substance that moved with the sluggish, deliberate weight of old honey or thick blood. He had carried this specific burden for twenty years, ever since the night his father’s breath stopped and the lie began, a physical ache in his lower...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GhostThe dust in the St. Jude’s Library does not settle; it hangs in the air like a suspension of time, thick and gray, coating the back of my throat with a gritty, metallic taste that no amount of water can wash away. I am Elias, forty-two years old, and I am currently buried up to my elbows in the restricted stacks of the Ghost Wing, a subterranean labyrinth of rotting oak shelves where the air is...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant TempleThe champagne in my glass was warm, a stale, golden liquid that tasted of the plastic cups we used for the interns. I counted the bubbles rising to the surface, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, each one a tiny, fragile sphere of pressure waiting to burst. The Meridian Insurance Group annual gala was in full swing, the chandeliers overhead casting a harsh, yellow glare over the sea of...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden FarceThe soot of 1893 did not merely coat the streets of Ironwood; it inhabited them, a dry, gritty powder that settled in the creases of Silas Vane’s face and turned the gaslight of his tenement into a sickly, jaundiced glow. It was in this suffocating atmosphere, on the rusted railing of his fire escape, that Silas first saw the wren, a bird of such improbable, polished gold that it seemed less...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe needle trembled. It had been trembling for three days, a fine, metallic shiver that vibrated through the brass casing and into my palm. I sat in the Director’s office, the rain hammering the leaded windows of Blackwood Asylum, and I waited for the verdict. My chest felt tight, a band of iron cinched around the ribs. Forty-two years old. Twenty years of service. One heart murmur that the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden QuestMarch 12. I am lying in a narrow bed in St. Jude’s, the sheets stiff with starch that smells of bleach and old stone. I am forty-two years old. My uniform is folded on the chair by the window, the brass buttons catching the pale afternoon light. I am here because the coroner’s report has come, and it has stripped my father of his final dignity. It labels his death "accidental," a fall from the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant NightmareThe crack in the porcelain bell runs deep, a jagged white vein against the blue glaze. You hold it in your pocket, the shards biting into your thigh with every step you take down the corridor of the Blackwood Institute. It is November, and the air in the building is stale, smelling of old paper and floor wax. You are Elias Thorne, forty-five years old, and you have one week left before your...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CompassThe eviction notice was taped to the inside of the night auditor’s booth, a yellowed rectangle that smelled of old paper and finality. Elias Thorne stared at it, the date circled in red ink, three days away. Outside, the Hotel Verity groaned, a sound like a ship settling into a muddy berth. The walls here did not just creak; they whispered. It was a low, dialect-heavy hum, a chorus of debts...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden ScarThe machine shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, and the gold locket in my hand grew hot. "Temporally radioactive," Halloway said. He did not look up from his ledger. His pen scratched against the paper, a rhythmic, dry sound that cut through the low-frequency hum vibrating in the floorboards. "Must be destroyed. Protocol seven." I placed the locket on the steel counter. It was small, no...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek