0 Comments
0 Shares
1 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful SilenceThe screwdriver bit slipped, grinding against the brass pinion, and Elias Thorne felt the familiar ache in his shoulder before he even looked down. He was forty-two, a master clockmaker in a city that was slowly forgetting how to keep time, and the Grand Meridian sat on his bench like a beast waiting to be skinned. The deadline was Friday. The city council had paid a sum that would buy a house...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded Masquerade"Cut me some slack, Elias. The paperwork is just paperwork." Elias Thorne stared at the wet spot on his tie, a dark smear that looked like a bruise. He was forty-five, a federal marshal with twelve years of clean service, and he was standing in the glass-walled office of Director Halloway, feeling the cold draft from the air conditioning settle into his marrow. The dream had been sharp again...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden Downtown"You are making a mistake, Elias. You are making a profound, administrative mistake." Director Halloway’s voice was not loud, but it possessed the flat, grinding quality of a machine trying to chew on a stone, a sound that seemed to originate from the very marble of the rotunda floor rather than the man’s throat. The air in the Ministry of Internal Records smelled of old paper and the faint,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant SummerThe cap lay on the iron grate, its wool matted with soot, the brim frayed where Elias’s father had rubbed it against his forehead in the last cold winter before the fever took him. It was a small thing, a dark, shapeless lump of fabric that smelled of woodsmoke and old sweat, but to Elias it was the only proof that he had ever belonged to someone who loved him. In the stark, whitewashed silence...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant JourneyThe train to Veldt smelled of wet wool and coal dust, a heavy, cloying scent that seemed to settle in the throat before it reached the nose. Elara sat in the corner of the third-class carriage, her hands folded tightly over the leather satchel on her lap, the knuckles white against the dark hide. Outside, the flatlands of the industrial north blurred into a grey smear, the rhythm of the wheels...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe invoice from the demolition firm was for twelve thousand pounds, a sum that felt absurdly light for the weight of stone Elias Thorne had spent forty years cataloging. He stood in the nave of St. Jude’s Abbey, his fingers tracing the cold, damp plaster of a pillar, counting the hours until the wrecking ball would arrive. The air tasted of wet chalk and old dust, a gritty film that settled on...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe ink is dry, Elias, but the stain remains. You hear the Guild Master’s voice before you see him, a low rumble that vibrates through the floorboards of the scriptorium. He stands in the doorway, his shadow falling across the parchment you have spent the last six hours perfecting. The Royal Charter, the document that binds the city’s trade agreements to the crown, lies spread out before you....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded QuadrantThe first thing you learn in the salt mines is the weight of the air. It sits on your chest like a wet wool blanket, heavy and cold, pressing the breath out of you before you can pull it in. I counted the hours by the swing of the pick, one, two, three, four, a cycle of four strikes before the arm ached, a rhythm that kept the mind from wandering into the dark places where the whispers lived....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant WoundThe parchment on my desk was damp, the kind of wet that seeps into the joints and makes the knuckles ache, and I held the Guild’s writ of pardon in my hand as if it were a live coal. The ink was black, the seal red, and the language was precise, promising freedom for the completion of the *Codex Aeterna*. I read it three times, my breath fogging in the cold air of the scriptorium, until the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek