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03/04/1978
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Actueel
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Title: The Button of Absolute ZeroGenre: Minimalist Realism Sam worked at a gas station in a town in Nebraska that the map had forgotten. His life was a series of identical hours: the smell of gasoline, the chime of the door, the same three regulars who complained about the price of diesel. He was a man of few words and fewer ambitions, a human extension of the pump he operated. One afternoon, a traveler in a charcoal suit left...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeldPlease log in to like, share and comment!
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The Vector at Sand Hill RoadThe desktop PC hummed in the darkness of the garage, its seventeen-inch CRT monitor casting blue light across Marcus Cole's face. It was two in the morning on a Tuesday in October 1999, and he had been staring at the same Excel spreadsheet for forty minutes. The numbers had stopped being numbers. They had become a kind of moral philosophy expressed in cells and columns, a Cartesian grid where...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Last Knight of the MacrocosmAct I: The Relic Brother Anselm of Canterbury returned from Jerusalem in the spring of 1190, carrying a glass relic that should not have existed. He had found it in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, hidden behind an altar that no living monk could remember being placed there. The relic was a sphere of crystal no larger than a fist, and within it, a city glowed with an light that had no source....0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeld
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THE STARS OF EVELYN MARCHETTIThe funeral was over on a Thursday in November. Chicago was cold in a way that felt deliberate—as if the city itself wanted to remind us that winter was coming and nothing in your life mattered to it. I stood at the graveside in a black suit that had been my father's first and now was mine by necessity, and I watched them lower him into the ground. My father was dead. He had been dead for...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 6 Views 0 voorbeeld
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THE DARK CIRCUITThe radio in the break room had been broken for three weeks and Jack Murdock kept meaning to fix it and kept not meaning to fix it, which was typical of Jack Murdock—he kept meaning to do things and kept not doing them, which was how you ended up thirty-four years old, drafted into a war you didn't understand, fixing electrical equipment in a hole beneath the earth. "Come on, you old bitch," he...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 7 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Patient from BelowDr. Evelyn Blackwood had been treating soldiers for fourteen months when she began to suspect that the war was happening inside their heads. The facility was a converted country estate outside New Carthage, all white corridors and padded rooms and the faint smell of carbolic and iodine. It housed the military's most difficult cases: men and women who had been brought back from the front lines...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 11 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Golden WaltzThe jazz played from the corner of the room like water flowing over stones. It was November nineteen twenty-five, and the apartment on Riverside Drive had windows that looked out onto the dark river and the lights of New Jersey on the other side, and the lights were beautiful and Mabel hated them because they reminded her of everything she could not have.She was twenty-one. The wedding was to...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 10 Views 0 voorbeeld
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V02 The Catalyst of Silas MarlowIt was the size of a thumb that did it. A single thumb-sized vial of amber liquid that arrived in a plain brown paper parcel on a Tuesday in October 1925 and sat on the edge of Silas Marlow's desk like a loaded gun in a room full of men who had forgotten how to aim. Silas did not know who sent it. No card. No note. Just the vial, wrapped in cotton and sealed in wax, and the faint chemical smell...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 9 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Cloister of PenanceBrother Elias knelt on the freezing stone of Sainte-Marie, his forehead pressed against the grit. The island was a jagged tooth of rock rising from the churning grey of the Mediterranean, a place where the wind sounded like the collective mourning of a thousand lost souls. The salt spray clung to his skin, a constant reminder of the ocean's indifference. For ten years, Elias had lived in the...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 9 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The American StageTHE IDOL WHO JUST WANTED TO MAKE MONEY VOLUME 2: THE AMERICAN STAGE PART ONE The morning Ruby Martinez opened her eyes on Forty-first Street, she knew three things with the clarity of scripture. She knew that her name was Ruby Kane now, not Martinez, and that Martinez was a life she had lived somewhere far away in a language that no longer existed. She knew that she had been a chorus girl in a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 12 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Brightest PursuitThe Brightest PursuitThe question was asked in a jazz club on 125th Street, and it echoed in ways that nobody, not even Vivian Cross, anticipated."You're a man who has everything," Vivian said into her microphone, leaning across the small table that separated her from the subject. The subject was a real estate developer named Harrington, and he was wearing a tuxedo that cost more than most...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 11 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Woman in the ConservatoryThe Woman in the Conservatory The rain had not stopped for three days. Clara Hartwell stood at the upstairs window of Blackthorn Hall and watched the Yorkshire moors disappear into a gray wash of mist and stone. From this height, the manor looked like a ship that had been beached too long — its white paint blistering, its windows clouded with the breath of old fires. Behind her, the house was...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 12 Views 0 voorbeeld
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