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 TaleThe dampness of the dormitory room settled into the bones of Elias Thorne’s son, a cold that seemed to radiate from the very walls, and Elias sat on the edge of the narrow cot, his fingers wrapped tightly around a small, unmarked glass vial that felt heavy in his palm despite its lightness, the liquid inside sloshing with a dull, viscous silence. It was the tonic, the promised cure for the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MythThe mist in the valley of Oakhaven did not lift; it thickened, a grey wool that strangled the light and turned the world into a sketch of itself. It was in this damp silence, on a Tuesday morning in late October, that twelve-year-old Thomas found the leaf. He had been scraping silt from the riverbed to clear the mill’s intake, a chore his father, a man whose lungs were slowly turning to ash,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden HarborThe fog did not roll in so much as it exhaled, a thick, sulfurous breath that curled around the iron ribs of the Blackwood Pier and settled into the lungs of Captain Elias Thorne before he had even stepped off the steamship. He was thirty-four years old, a man whose health was already a ledger of deficits, his chest tight with a cough that tasted of rust and iron, and he had come to this...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ThroneThe chandelier above the grand hall of the Blackwood Union Station lobby cast a fractured, amber light across the polished mahogany tables, where the cream of the city’s engineering corps sat in a state of performative rapture. Professor Arthur Vane stood at the head of the central table, his tuxedo fitting him with a severity that belied the slight tremor already beginning to settle into his...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden CellarThe gold weighed nothing, which was the problem. Elias Thorne held the shattered circlet in his palm, feeling the jagged edges bite into the meat of his thumb, counting the fragments one by one. Seven pieces. Seven shards of the High Court’s own currency, broken by the weight of his own duty. He sat in the damp cellar, the air thick with the smell of wet stone and old rot, and waited for the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale EchoThe rain lashed against the windowpane of the sickroom, a relentless drumming that matched the shallow, rattling breath of Clara. I sat in the chair by her bed, my hands folded in my lap, feeling the cold seep through my wool trousers. The air was thick with the cloying scent of lilies and the sweet, cloying rot of consumption. "You have it, then?" Clara whispered. Her eyes were half-closed,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded DustThe dust in the Ministry of Truth does not settle. It drifts, a pale suspension in the air, catching the fluorescent light until the archives look like a room submerged in milk. I am Elias Thorne, and I have spent nine years cataloging silence, waiting for the day the Director notices my hands. The Faded Dust is not dirt; it is the physical residue of erased people, a sentient sediment that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful WitnessThe ink on the warrant was still wet, glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights of my office like a fresh wound. I sat alone, the heavy oak desk separating me from the cold window, staring at the signature that did not belong to me. It was a forgery of such exquisite precision that it mimicked the slight tremor of my hand, the way I used to curl the tail of the 'e' when I was tired. But it...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseThe rotting lilies were already there when Elias Thorne stepped into the Health Bureau, a sweet, cloying stench that clung to the back of his throat like a bad taste. He adjusted the leather satchel at his hip, feeling the weight of the glass vials inside, and approached the mahogany desk where Director Halloway sat with the stillness of a predator. "You are here to submit the final formulation...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek