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 BonsaiChapter One I have not washed my hands since the sap first touched my skin, a fact that has since become the only true measure of my time at the post. The light this morning is thin and grey, falling at an angle that suggests the spring flood is days away, perhaps even hours, and I watch the water level rise against the stone wall of the border station. My name is Sota Suzuki, though the men...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful SkylineThe ink on the intake form bled through the paper as my hand trembled, a dark stain spreading across the signature line of Juliette Duval, a woman whose pension hung by a thread. I am forty-two of Widow's Landing, a place where the fog rolls in from the harbor and makes the port useless, turning the stone quays into slick, treacherous mirrors. The smell of damp wool and stale tea hung heavy in...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful VoyageChapter One Elvira Marino would later remember the weight of the water more than the cold, a heavy, liquid anchor that pulled at her wrists. In 1923, the basement of the laundry on twenty-three of Stonecutter Alley was a place where time did not pass but accumulated, layering itself in damp and rust. She was thirty-two, a laundress with hands that had forgotten the shape of her own flesh,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ShowChapter One The backstreets of Naples hummed with the low, industrial thrum of the laundry lines overhead, a constant friction of wet cotton against the iron framework of a city that had forgotten how to rest. Here, in the shadow of the church where the pews were dragged nightly to the hall for the war effort, the air tasted of wet stone and the metallic tang of a rifle that had not been...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful WitnessChapter One "Berth 404, Molina, M. Status: Delinquent. Debt: 12,000 credits. Action: Seizure of tools within 48 hours." I read the notice taped to the bulkhead of our quarters three times, the paper rough against my thumb, the ink slightly smudged where the printer had jammed. It was a dry, bureaucratic thing, the kind of paper that felt like dead skin. Outside, the rain hammered against the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ThroneThe water in the basement of the pumping station did not rise so much as it waited, a cold, black patience that mirrored the silence of the men who had locked the valve from the outside, leaving Ofelia Solórzano to stand in the muck with her boots sinking into the silt while the city above her thirsted. She was thirty-four years old, a senior inspector at the Municipal Water Authority, and she...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded GuestThe gas meter in the hallway ticked, a sound like a slow, mechanical heartbeat that marked the seconds until the border closed on Sunday. We were a town of terraces abandoned to broom, of scrip and store, where the lead in my fingers had long since calcified into something harder than bone. I was Willemina Mulder, and I was thirty-four years old, standing in the sealed archive at fifty-eight of...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful AtlasAct I The canals of Melbourne ran low and brown in the morning light, choked with silt and the rot of summer. The locks groaned as the gates shifted, a heavy, mechanical grinding that set teeth on edge. I stood on the towpath, watching a barge drag its dead weight toward the docks, my boots sinking into the mud. I am Esther Zorn. I am thirty-two. I am a border patrol officer, though the title...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden GreenhouseThe vial sat in your palm, a small cylinder of cracked glass containing a sludge of green algae, cold against the skin of your thumb. You turned it over, watching the light from the archive’s high windows catch the fractures in the vessel, a map of stress lines that mirrored the tension in your own jaw. For twenty years, you had kept this relic in your desk drawer, a physical anchor to the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek