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 GardenAct I I remember the weight of the pen more than the blood that stained the paper, a heavy, brass instrument that felt like it had been forged for a hand twice the size of mine. I was forty-two, a senior archivist in the Ministry of Records, and I stood in the observation blister, the curved glass pressing against my forehead as the Hardanger fjord lay below us, a delta of salt and rice paddies...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded PhotographChapter One Elvira Sartori remembered the smell of wet copper and rotting paper long after the ink had dried. In 1912, the reclamation yard on the edge of Venice was a place where dead machines rusted into the mud, and the air tasted of iron filings. She was thirty-four, an archivist whose hands were permanently stained with the black sludge of the estate she was cataloging, and she wanted only...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RoadThe silence in the back office of the Tōhoku Prefectural Police Station was not empty, but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the eardrums like deep water. Michiko Nakagawa sat at the scarred oak desk, the grain worn smooth by decades of elbows and spilled coffee, and stared at the cracked leather of her service badge. It was a relic, a thing she had kept long after the official...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RiverSilk threads, dyed in indigo and madder, hung in heavy curtains from the eaves of the caravanserai, snapping taut in the wind that blew off the quarry lake. The smell of wet wool and sulfur hung thick over the town of Kish, where the auctioneer’s voice cut through the din, closing lot after lot of raw bales. Gholam Zare, a glassblower whose lungs had long since turned to brittle sand, sat in...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful IncenseAct I "Put it down, Esperanza. You’re going to break it." The coil of Wistful Incense lay in the palm of her hand, fragile as a dried leaf, yet it hummed with a low, subsonic vibration that rattled the teeth in her jaw. She was forty-two, a scholar of liturgy who had spent more years studying the weight of souls than she had spent living her own, and the student debt from her graduate program...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale PathThorne, you are late. The voice came from the tape recorder, a hiss of static that turned into a man’s breath, dry and close. I sat in the center of the basement, the floorboards groaning under the weight of my chair, and watched the dust motes suspend in the beam of the single bulb. Three days. That was all that remained before the auctioneer arrived to dismantle the Blackwood Estate, to sell...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded AlibiChapter One The dream is always the same: a fog so thick it has weight, pressing against my chest, and in the mist, my left hand, severed cleanly at the wrist, reaching for me with a grip that feels like cold iron. I wake with the phantom ache in the missing limb, a neural misfire I have learned to ignore, the same way I ignore the rubbish truck’s brakes screeching at dawn, a sound that has...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden SuspectChapter One "Notice of Cessation of Services. Effective immediately. Please vacate the premises by dusk." Thị Le read the slip of paper twice. The ink was still wet. She was thirty years old, a scribe for the municipal water authority, and she had just lost her job because the pension fund had been raided. Her father was dying in the attic of the old house on twenty-three of Stonecutter Alley....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GhostChapter One WARRANT FOR ARREST: Clifford Yancey, Signalman. Charge: Treason. Fine: One Hundred Pounds. The paper was damp, the ink bleeding into the coarse grain like a bruise. Clifford Yancey held it in his left hand, the right gripping the handle of his shovel, the wood splintered and slick with the melting snow that had turned the Pacific Northwest rain belt into a slurry of coal dust and...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek