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Ontdek nieuwe mensen, nieuwe verbindingen te maken en nieuwe vrienden maken
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The Class BreakerMary Sullivan scrubbed the Ashworth Hall kitchen floors at five in the morning, before the fires were lit, when the stone was cold enough to wake you up and the only sound was the drip of the tap and the occasional squeak of the cat in the pantry. She scrubbed with her knuckles, the way she had been taught by the previous scullery maid, a woman named Grace who had been fired for stealing sugar...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 100 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Copywright Protocol: British Class Satire VariantThe Copywright Protocol: British Class Satire Variant Batch 9 - Work ID 73231: The Copywright Protocol Tensor: TI=72.0, M=[7.0,0.5,6.0,3.0,4.0,3.0,3.0,6.0,2.0,6.0], N=[0.5,0.5], K=[0.5,0.5], theta=45.0 ACT I: THE CARD The card was wedged inside a copy of the Daily Mail, pressed between the horoscope and the crossword. Cream stock, gold leaf, no return address—just a single line of embossed...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 144 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Last Class at Miller's RunDale Mercer counted the coins in the desk drawer. Forty-seven dollars and thirty-two cents. That was the school's entire budget for the rest of the month. No heat. No electricity after noon. Nine students and one teacher and a heater that hadn't worked since October. He looked at the kids. Nine teenagers, most of them scrolling on phones with cracked screens, most of them planning to drop out...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 61 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Last Light of Manchester: British Class Satire VariantThe Last Light of Manchester: British Class Satire Variant Batch 9 - Work ID 65548: The Last Light of Manchester Tensor: TI=58.0, M=[9.0,1.5,3.0,7.0,5.5,3.0,1.5,0.5,2.5,9.5], N=[0.60,0.40], K=[0.30,0.70], theta=200 The Last Light of Manchester Variants 01: British Class Satire Style: Martin Amis + Nick Hornby I The train arrived at Euston at half past six — early enough to be respectable, late...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 118 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Rain in Chicago: British Class Satire Noir VariantThe Rain in Chicago: British Class Satire Noir Variant Batch 9 - Work ID 71749: The Rain in Chicago Doesn't Wash Things Clean. It Just Makes the Grime Wetter. It was one of those London days that the weathermen call "overcast" and everyone else calls "Tuesday." A thin drizzle had been falling since dawn, the kind of rain that doesn't so much wet you as negotiate with your coat. Jack Moran sat...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 133 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 68 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 74 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 62 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 75 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 78 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Requiem of a ClassThe twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1890 was not a sudden fall, but a slow, gilded decay. Vienna was a city of masks, where the waltzes of the ballroom drowned out the screams of the slums, and where the nobility clung to their titles like drowning men to pieces of driftwood. For Julian, the last scion of a house that had served the Habsburgs for three centuries, the empire was not a...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 72 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Wistful SkylineTHE WISTFUL SKYLINE By Edward Ashworth The glass tower rose above the city like a needle threading clouds, and from the forty-second floor my corner desk, I could see the whole of London spread beneath me like a map drawn by someone who had never walked its streets. Cars were toy vehicles on ribbons of grey. People were punctuation marks—periods hurrying to meetings, commas lingering over...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 66 Views 0 voorbeeld
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A working-class engineer's belief that hard work will earn him belonging in Manchester is quietly dissolved by the city's indifference.A working-class engineer's belief that hard work will earn him belonging in Manchester is quietly dissolved by the city's indifference.The Wistful SkylineThe Manchester rain had a way of making everything look like watercolour left out in the storm — blurring, bleeding, losing the edges that once told you where one thing ended and another began. Thomas Harrow knew this about the city. He had lived inside its blur for seven years, ever since he came up from Staffordshire with a suitcase and a certificate in electrical engineering that meant...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 2 Views 0 voorbeeld
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