0 Comments
0 Shares
5 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful CampusThe light in the faculty meeting room was the color of old bandages, filtered through blinds that had not been adjusted since the previous administration took office. You sat in the back row, your hands folded in your lap, feeling the rough weave of your wool trousers against your knees. Dean Sterling stood at the front, his tie a violent shade of red against the pale beige of his suit, and he...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorThe ledger was heavy, a thick block of leather-bound pages that smelled of damp wool and old iron, and Elias Thorne lifted it from the study desk with hands that trembled not from age, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the ink that stained the first entry. He had come to Blackwood Manor in the autumn of 1893 to catalog the estate’s botanical specimens, a task that was ostensibly academic...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale PathThe fog in the High Court did not merely obscure the world; it swallowed it, a dense, gray wool that muffled the sound of footsteps on the marble floors and turned the grand arches of the archive into the ribs of some buried leviathan. Elara Vane sat at her desk, the leather chair creaking under the weight of her ambition, her eyes fixed on the parchment spread before her, a document that...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinThe rain had been falling for three days, a grey sheet that turned the estate’s cobblestones into a slick mirror. I sat by the window, watching the water drip from the eaves, and I felt the weight of the silence pressing against my ribs. My daughter, Lily, was six. She had been six for two years. Since the evacuation, the registry had been the only thing that proved she existed. The State...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful MirrorThe brass pocket mirror sat in your palm, heavy and warm from the friction of your thumb against its rim. It was a solid block of metal, tarnished green at the edges, unpolished and ugly. You held it up to the light of the council chamber, and the glass did not reflect the room. It reflected the truth, a sharp, jagged thing that cut through the polite fiction of the annual audit. You were...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe parchment lay on the wet stone of the gatehouse floor, its edges curling in the damp air. You read the seal, the wax black and cracked, and the ink faded to a ghostly gray. The gatekeeper, a man whose face was a map of old scars and newer grudges, did not look at you. He looked at the paper. "Refused," he said. The word was flat, a stone dropped into deep water. "The ledger of Julian...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded Dust"Did you sign it, Elias?" The question hung in the air of the sheriff’s office, sharp as a rusted nail. You looked at Deputy Miller, who sat across the desk with his hands flat on the wood, knuckles white. The smell of stale coffee and wet wool clung to the room, thick enough to choke on. You wanted to clear your name before the state audit arrived in three days. The town of Oakhaven believed...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SongThe ledger lay open on the wet stone of the tower floor, its pages yellowed and stiff with damp. Elias Thorne traced the final entry with a calloused thumb, the ink smearing slightly under the pressure of his grip. The contract was simple: complete the golden bell by the winter solstice, or forfeit the balance of his wages. He had three days left. The air in the tower was thin and cold,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden Myth"You will not be receiving the pension." The words hung in the stale air of the Director’s office, carrying the scent of old paper and damp wool. I stood before the heavy oak desk, my hands trembling slightly as I held the ledger, its leather cover cracked and worn from years of handling. Elias Thorne, forty-two, former scribe, current floor scrubber. That was the name on my badge, though the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek