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 GardenThree hundred and twelve chisel strikes. That was the count when the mist first touched the edge of the chisel, cool and damp as a wet tongue. Elias Thorne did not wipe his brow. He did not look up from the granite block that sat upon the scaffolding, high above the cobblestones of Oakhaven. The stone was grey, veined with black, and it smelled of wet iron and old rot, a scent that had grown so...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant CartographThe left hand of your father, Thomas Ashworth, sat in your palm, the knuckles swollen and purple, the fingers curled in a permanent, silent spasm that you had come to read like a scripture. It was a heavy thing to carry, this dead weight of bone and skin, smelling faintly of the formaldehyde that had preserved it after the funeral, and you held it against the cold stone of the cellar step as...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful VoyageYou have three days, Julian, and I have no hands. That is the state of affairs as I sit before the furnace, the heat pressing against my face like a physical weight, a wall of orange air that makes the sweat sting in the cuts on my palms. I am writing this by the light of the coals, the paper curling slightly at the edges, because the candles in the workshop have burned down to nubs and I...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant SummerThe brass buckle of your belt chafes against the skin of your hip, a hot, metallic burn that wakes you before the light does, and you are lying in the narrow cot at the end of the barracks, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling where a water stain has shaped itself into a map of a country you have never seen, while your hands, resting on the wool blanket, are trembling with a fine,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileThe cup was cracked again. It sat on a table Arthur could not see, the fracture running like a dry riverbed through the white glaze, splitting the image of a blue bird into two useless halves. He woke with his hand gripping the sheet, his knuckles white, the dampness of the dream still clinging to his skin. It was November, 1912, and the air in the attic room above the counting house smelled of...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseThe kiln hissed as the door cracked open, and the heat hit you before the light did, a physical shove against your chest that forced you to lean back into the cool, damp air of the basement. You were holding the tongs with a grip that had gone white-knuckled, the metal singing a high, thin note as it cooled, and your mind was already miles away, back to the street above where the rain was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded FrontierThe indigo stain on Elara’s fingernails was not merely dirt; it was a debt of twenty years, paid in thread and blood. She stood before the High Court, the air thick with the smell of damp stone and unwashed bodies, her fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of the wooden table. The sash lay before her, a strip of woven darkness that seemed to drink the light from the torches. It did not...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful DinnerThe ink was black as dried blood. I held the quill, my hand trembling not from cold, but from the weight of the decree I had broken. I am Elias, a scribe of forty-two years, and I was here to save my brother, Thomas, from the wasting sickness that was eating him alive in the infirmary below. The Abbot’s order was clear: the *Liber Umbrarum* was sealed, for it bound the reader’s soul to a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded AtticThe invoice from St. Jude’s Hospital lay on the kitchen table, its edges curling slightly in the humid air, a document that weighed more than its physical mass suggested, a heavy, gray thing that seemed to pull the light down with it. Clara read the total for the third time, the number blurred by the condensation on her glasses, the sum that had eaten her savings, her dignity, and her future,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek