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 GardenThe Meridian Palace atrium smelled of ozone and old floor wax. Ofelia Arellano stood before the central console, her hand hovering over the red purge key, thirty-two years old and the only person in the convoy who knew how to kill a ghost. The air recycler hummed, a low drone that vibrated in her teeth, masking the silence of the empty hall. She had wanted this moment for a decade. The Pale...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RoadTalha Beg was twelve years old, and his father was dead. The house in the kiln quarter smelled of wet ash and cheap rosewater, a scent that clung to the wool coats of the guests who had come for the feast. Talha stood by the heavy oak door, his fingers white-knuckled around a folded piece of paper. It was a map of the city’s old tram lines, ink bleeding through the creases like a bruise. He...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded AlibiIn the mist-bound valley of the Highlands, a man’s worth is often measured by the precision of his cut. Calum Kirkwood, forty-two of NineElm Crossing, stood before the mirror in his rented shop, the air heavy with cold lather and the damp wool of a coat that did not quite fit the shoulders beneath it. He was a barber, not a seal-carver, yet the magistrate’s commission had turned his chair into...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale BannerThe light in the archive is never the same color as the light outside, and I have spent ten years learning to read the difference. I am Lars Bakken, the court archivist, a man whose life is measured in the dust motes suspended in the shafts that fall from the high windows of the fjord-side building, and for the past three months, I have been trying to prove that I am not a traitor. The High...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden OathChapter One Ryszard Malinowski remembered the weight of the vial in his hand long after the magistrate’s men had dragged him into the clearing, the glass cool against his palm as the wind stripped the leaves from the birches. He had been forty-two, a scholar whose license to practice had lapsed years ago, sitting in the drafty loft under the tin roof where the light slanted through the gaps in...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant AffairAct I The town of Tunis wakes before the sun, a white smear of stone against the dune country that is slowly swallowing the road. The ferry queue stretches into the rain, a long, wet line of bodies waiting for the crossing, while the staff room of the closing school sits empty, its chairs stacked like bones. I am Omar Haddad, thirty-two, a falconer to a minor lord, and I am standing in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SilenceThe canals of the delta ran black and still, a network of dark veins pulsing under the midday sun that reflected off the water’s surface like hammered tin. Men in flat caps hauled timber up the muddy banks, their shirts slick with sweat, while the smell of rotting pine hung heavy in the air, thick as wet wool. Vĩnh Duc stood on the dock, his boots caked in mud, holding a level and a plumb bob,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded QuadrantChapter One Randi Holm, the junior constable of the Bergen station, wanted the promotion that would allow him to send his ailing mother to the sanatorium, but Inspector Vane dismissed his report on the dockside thefts as the paranoid ramblings of a man too close to the working class. It was a damp, coal-scented morning in 1904, the kind that settled into the lungs and stayed there, a physical...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SilenceThe notice was printed on heavy, cream-colored paper, the kind that cost three hundred yen a sheet, stamped with the crimson seal of the Osaka Shitamachi Municipal Authority: Water Allocation Suspended Pending Audit. Hanako Ishikawa read it twice, the ink still wet, while the rain drummed against the high windows of the command center. She was fifty-four, and her hands, which had once been...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek