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13/11/1983
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The Archive of Fabricated TruthsDr. Elena Fontaine's job was simple: determine whether an experience was real or fabricated, and mark it accordingly. She had been doing this for twelve years. In twelve years, she had audited thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and twelve experience packages and marked thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and three as fabricated. She had marked nine as authentic. Nine. Out of thirty-eight...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотрВойдите, чтобы отмечать, делиться и комментировать!
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The Beast of BlackwaterThe swamp did not sleep. It breathed. It breathed in the heat and the humidity and the rot, and it breathed out fog and mosquitoes and the smell of death. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the swamp, and the swamp breathed back at him. Henry had been seven years old. He had been playing near the edge of the property, the way he did every day, the way he had done every day for seven years. The...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The gap had a name, but nobody in Millers Creek used it anymore. Nobody said Crowder's Gap the way the old-timers had. They just said "the gap," as if it were a place you went to rather than a plac...I drove there on a Thursday in March, 1954, with a notebook in the passenger seat and a story assignment that my editor at the Pittsburgh Tribune called "color" and meant "you won't get paid much for it but it'll look nice in the spring edition." Seven disappearances in ten years. That was the hook. Seven people who had gone into the Appalachians near Millers Creek and not come back. Most of...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 8 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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Title: The Catalyst in ChicagoThe winter of 1925 in Chicago was the kind of winter that made men feel like gods because the cold was so absolute that only something stronger than winter could keep a city alive. Vincent Moretti kept his city alive from a second-floor apartment above a bar on North Avenue. He was thirty-one years old, bald with a face that had been broken once and put back together wrong, and he was one of...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 29 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Last TransmitterThe Last Transmitter The parties at Cary Carlyle's estate were the talk of New York. Rumors swirled about Cary himself—where had he spent those five years? Nobody knew for certain. He claimed the South American expedition, but the man who claimed to have seen him in Patagonia turned out to be a drunk sailor who later died of tuberculosis in a flophouse on the Lower East Side. Cary was...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 22 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Uncertainty at the Top of the WorldThe first sensor began transmitting the blue emission on the one hundred and forty-third day of Amara Singh's deployment at the North Slope Permafrost Monitoring Station, which was also the one hundred and forty-third consecutive day of polar night, a period during which the sun did not rise above the horizon and the world existed in a permanent twilight that was not quite darkness and not...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 21 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Micro-Anatomy of DesireThe rain in New York was a relentless, grey static that blurred the edges of the skyscrapers. Leo lived in a world of auditions and "almosts," a young actor whose talent was a currency that no one seemed willing to spend. He spent his nights in a basement rehearsal space that smelled of damp concrete and desperation, practicing a craft that the world had decided was obsolete. His agent, Marcus,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 25 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Ashworth DeedThe fog came in off the moors like a living thing, thick and yellow and smelling of wet stone. Thomas Blackwood pulled his coat tighter and looked up at Ashworth Hall. It had been three hundred years since the original deed was drawn, and in three hundred years the Ashworths had turned it into a machine for swallowing men whole. He was twenty-two and poor in the way that Yorkshire poor men are...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 24 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Haunted InheritanceThe mist of the Scottish Highlands did not just obscure the land; it swallowed the soul. Alastair lived in the decaying grandeur of Glenmore Keep, a fortress of grey stone and weeping ivy. He was a man of silence and old books, spending his youth saving every coin from his modest estate to buy a passage to the continent, to escape the suffocating weight of his ancestors' failures. But his...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 34 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Martyr of the LieJulian lived in the shadow of the Great Fog. In the rigid hierarchy of Victorian London, he was a ghost—a man of education and ambition, trapped in the skin of a pauper. His sister, Clara, was his only anchor. She was dying of a consumption that the doctors called "inevitable" and the pharmacists called "profitable." The medicine she needed was an experimental serum from the Continent, a serum...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 26 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Charity of FoolsSamuel was a man of a thousand smiles, all of them fake. He was a "Professional Volunteer" in the high-society circles of Manhattan, a man who knew exactly which gala to attend and which orphan to photograph himself with to maximize his social capital. He didn't care about the poor; he cared about the *perception* of caring. Then he met Puck. Puck was a cat with a mischievous glint in his eyes...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 26 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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THE GARDEN OF TOMORROWA Collection of Ten Short Stories I. THE STARLIGHT LESSON Nora Chen had never seen a star. She was born blind, congenital optic nerve atrophy, the doctors said. No treatment available. No hope. She was eight years old when her grandfather first told her about the stars, sitting beside her on the porch of his house in Pasadena, his old radio telescope pointed at the sky she could not see....0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 32 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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