0 Comments
0 Shares
1 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Golden QuestChapter One Did Andres Molina remember the weight of the gold, or did he only remember the silence that followed the whistle? He stood at the threshold of the wire room, the factory whistle key cold in his pocket, the brass of the Umbervale binding-ring catching the dull light from the window. The second rain had finished the first, a physical fact that made the pavement slick and the air taste...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RootThe orchid sat in the crock of your hands, its white petals trembling slightly in the draft that slipped through the cracked window of the botanist’s office. It was a Phalaenopsis, a rare strain you had coaxed from a dying cutting three winters ago, and it was the only thing in the world that could pay the debt your father had left behind. The King’s demand had arrived an hour ago, a sealed...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded RuinCould a man truly be free if he had never seen the sky without a wire cutting it in half? Rajesh Reddy asked the question aloud, his voice cracking against the sterile white walls of the intake center, the shattered glass of the nutrient vial still biting into his palm where he had dropped it. He was thirty-two, a border patrol officer, and he stood holding the fragments of what the state...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ExileElias Thorne’s left hand hovered over the lead cames, the tip of his soldering iron trembling against the cold air of the nave. The heat was localized, a small, defiant circle of orange light in the vast, blue-grey silence of the cathedral. He was forty-two, a master glazier with twenty years of service to St. Jude’s, and he knew that the central rose window was his final commission. It was...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CipherThorne. The name was called out by Magistrate Halloway, a sound that cut through the clink of silverware and the low hum of forty guests seated in my workshop, a name that carried the weight of a summons rather than a greeting, and I felt the hair on my forearms rise as the room’s attention shifted from the roasted pheasant to my face. I was forty-two, and my hands, stained with the grease of...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale DoorDid he truly believe that surrender would open the way? Fernand Gauthier stood before the semaphore station, the rain slicking the cobblestones of the working arrondissement until they shone like black glass, and watched the light die behind the low clouds. He was thirty-two years old, a scholar of modest renown, yet he carried the weight of a man who had already lost, a defeat he had chosen...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant NightmareI was elbow-deep in the wet wool of a dead goat, the blood slick and warm against my fingers, when the rain started. It fell cold, a midsummer downpour that felt like March, turning the dust of the steppe into a grey slurry. I wiped my hands on my trousers, leaving dark smears, and looked toward the stone house at the edge of the estate. The river had gone quiet. That was the first sign. The...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded SutraAct I NOTICE TO ALL RESIDENTS: The Tax Boat arrives early this year. All debts, including rolled-over loans, are due upon docking. No extensions will be granted. The water is high. You hold the scroll in your hands, the paper brittle as a dried leaf, and the heat presses against your temples like a wet towel. It is noon in the chawl, that impossible, suffocating hour when the sun hangs directly...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded AtticAct I What does it cost to be forgiven? The question hung in the damp air of the Faded Attic, a room that seemed to stretch further back than the house’s foundations allowed. Himari Watanabe, thirty years old and hollowed out by the weight of his family’s crushing debt, stood before a shelf of rusted iron and forgotten paper. The smell hit him first, a cloying mix of mildew and the sharp,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek