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02/01/1973
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After the Centre FellOn the morning that Tommy Hodges was arrested, the Isle of Dogs smelled of low tide and diesel, the river mud at the Millwall slipway glistening black under a sky that had forgotten what sun was. It was the second of June, 1985. The arrest took place outside the Poplar Civic Centre during a demonstration against the latest eviction notice served on the Glengall Grove estate, where twelve...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 BewertungenBitte loggen Sie sich ein, um liken, teilen und zu kommentieren!
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The Hollow MasqueradeParis in 1925 was a city of electric lights and existential dread. The cafes of Montparnasse were filled with expatriates who had fled their homes only to find that they had brought their ghosts with them in their suitcases. Julian was a painter who had long since stopped using color. He painted in shades of grey and charcoal, capturing the precise moment when a smile becomes a grimace. He...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Patient from BelowACT I Dr. Henry Blackwood's clinic was on Harley Street, in a building that had been a townhouse before someone with money and no taste turned it into a medical practice. The waiting room smelled of carbolic acid and lavender—two smells that had been mixed together by someone who thought they complemented each other but in fact created an odor that was worse than either alone. Blackwood sat in...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 4 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Patient from BelowACT I Dr. Henry Blackwood's clinic was on Harley Street, in a building that had been a townhouse before someone with money and no taste turned it into a medical practice. The waiting room smelled of carbolic acid and lavender—two smells that had been mixed together by someone who thought they complemented each other but in fact created an odor that was worse than either alone. Blackwood sat in...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Double Life of Isolde VaneThe Double Life of Isolde Vane ACT I The dawn in Vienna had a particular quality at that hour, before the carriages began their daily procession along the Ringstrasse and the gas lamps flickered their last yellow sighs into the grey. In the Café Central, the air was thick with the dregs of a thousand conversations and the dark bitterness of exhausted espresso. Dr. Isolde Vane—Dr. Vann, as the...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 9 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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Variant 10The Aesthete's ReturnACT I: THE SALONThe salon of Lady Ashworth on Grosvenor Square was the kind of place where people came to be seen rather than to see anything. Arthur Wellesby stood by the window and watched the carriages roll past, wondering when exactly he had become someone who attended these things.He was thirty-two, unmarried, wealthy enough to be interesting and poor enough to be...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 11 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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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 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 6 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Architecture of Human Forgetting 11The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless judgment. The rain in Los Angeles was a relentless...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 9 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Midnight SignalACT I: THE CALL The rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. Tom Rourke sat in his office on South Spring Street, watching the rain streak the window like tears on a face that had stopped crying years ago. The office was what you'd expect from a private detective who hadn't had a paying client in three weeks: a desk, a chair, a filing cabinet with one...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 7 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Moment the Water ChangedEleanor MacLeod had been listening for one hundred and forty-three nights. She knew the number because she counted everything—the strokes of the lighthouse lamp, the seconds between waves, the syllables in a whale's phrase before it repeated. Counting was how she kept from falling apart in a place that offered nothing but wind and the sound of her own breathing. She had come to North Ronaldsay...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 4 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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Light Against the CurrentThe first letter was dated 12 March 1884, and it began, as all of them were bound to begin, with words she would never send. To Whom It May Concern, I am writing to record the following observation, which I believe has significant implications for our understanding of mechanical efficiency in textile manufacturing, though I understand the Scientific Committee may not be receptive to the...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 17 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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The Fog and the StarsI The fog rolled in from the Thames like a living thing, swallowing煤气 lamps whole. Arthur Pendleton stood before the headstone, the damp London cold seeping through his woolen coat, and watched his breath dissolve into the grey nothingness around him. Above him on the crag of Highgate Hill, an ant named Brown Climber traced figures into the damp earth with its feelers—9, 5, 2, 0—the numbers of...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 7 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
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