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 Distant GardenThe debt ledger on the table weighed exactly four pounds, a heavy book of leather and ink that recorded thirty-two years of my life in silver shillings. I counted the stitches in the hem of my apron, one for every hour I had spent in the Baron’s service, until the number blurred into a grey smear. The air in the delivery room was cold, a physical weight that pressed against my chest, and I...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden MirrorThe iron key had three teeth, and I had broken the second one against the rusted latch of the cellar door, leaving a splinter of metal embedded in my thumb and a bead of blood mixing with the grime on the cold stone. It was the third hour of the night, and the candle in the apothecary above was burning low, casting a sickly, amber glow that barely reached the floor where I knelt, my knees...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ThroneAct I Guodong Liang wiped the grime from the Jade Lotus with a rag that had long since lost its color, his fingers trembling not from cold but from the sheer weight of the stone’s resistance. The artifact, cracked down the middle like a dried riverbed, sat in the center of the sealed stone chamber, reflecting not his face but the hollowed eyes of the villagers who had starved last winter, a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful PetalAct I Luce Soileau’s boots sank into the wet clay, the mud pulling at his ankles like a living thing, and he did not stop. He was dragging the shattered porcelain mask of his sister, Marie, through the churned earth of the no-man’s-land, his hands slick with black fluid that was not water. The ink-stain seeped from the ground, a viscous dark that climbed his forearms, writing names in jagged,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GardenMud. Fernand Etienne knew the specific weight of it. It was a thick, cold paste that sucked at his boots with a suction like a dying lung, pulling the ground down into itself. He was thirty-four years old, a garrison officer with a limp in his left knee from a fall in the Vosges, and he was currently digging a hole in his own front yard. The north wind cut across the Auvergne plateau, a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful PetalChapter One The ink never dried, which was the first lie the Bureau told. Teodoro Bermudez stood before the wall of the archive, his boots heavy on the linoleum, watching the black fluid seep from the plaster. It moved with a slow, deliberate hunger. He held the collar of the missing patrol dog, a heavy leather thing that had once belonged to a beast named Sancho. The Bureau refused to...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful Throne"You’ll want the share certificate for the file, Catriona. It’s delisted, but it’s paper, and paper holds the weight of the debt." I took the slip from the tax assessor’s hand, the paper gritty and dry under my thumb, and tucked it into the breast pocket of my uniform over the hospital orderly’s scrub top I’d worn that morning. The room smelled of stale tea and the damp, mineral tang of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful Mountain"Give me the key, Kael, or I’ll take it from your cold hands." Walter Barlow’s voice was flat, stripped of the command that had once held the garrison together, now sounding like a man counting out coins he did not have. The light in the threshing floor was the grey, bruised blue of early dawn, slanting through the gaps in the timber walls where the rain had finally stopped filling the dried...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale TaleChapter One Anita Gupta had forty years of service stamped in her ledger, and now her hands would not stop shaking. The office of the Bombay Textile Exchange smelled of liniment and damp wool, a sharp, medicinal scent that clung to the back of her throat. Outside, the first real dark of autumn pressed against the glass, erasing the bamboo hills that usually swallowed the sound of the city. She...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek