-
185 Posts
-
0 Photos
-
0 Videos
-
Male
-
23/08/1965
-
Followed by 0 people
Recent Updates
-
The View from the ShoulderMy mother smells like lavender and old paper. She doesn't have hands, but she has the most beautiful shoulders I've ever seen—sloping, gentle, and always trembling slightly when my father enters the room. I am seven years old, and I am the only one who sees the truth. In the eyes of the city, my father, David, is a saint. He is a Senator, a man of "unwavering compassion" who spends his weekends...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 ReviewsPlease log in to like, share and comment!
-
Sample V-14: The Forbidden FruitThe laboratory was a cathedral of chrome and humming servers, hidden beneath the bedrock of Manhattan. Dr. Julian Thorne was not interested in curing diseases or solving energy crises; he was interested in the architecture of the soul. He had developed the "Cognitive Bridge," a device capable of mapping and manipulating the subconscious. He believed that human suffering was merely a coding...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
Act I: Elias lives in a flat in Bloomsbury, London, pretending to be an elderly man. He spends his days reading, drinking tea, and maintaining the elaborate fiction that he is 108 years old. Sofia ...**Act II: The Bureau finds him. Not through Sofia — through a contact in MI5 who recognizes Elias from archival photographs. They offer him a mission: retrieve a document from a declassified KGB archive in Moscow. It is a standard mission for a normal agent. For Elias, it is an opportunity — perhaps the document contains information about the original alchemists who gave him the substance. If...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Gilded SeasonThe Gilded Season The gardenias on the mantelpiece were still fresh, which meant someone had gone to the conservatory at dawn to cut them before the dew evaporated. Eleanor "Nora" Vance sat in the Whitmore drawing room and watched the petals turn slightly brown at the edges, as though even beauty in this house had to be harvested before it was allowed to exist. Spring 1925 had arrived over Long...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
What the Photographs KeptWhat the Photographs Kept The photograph was the best thing Eleanor had ever shot, and she did not know it was of him until three days later, when she recognized the distinctive blue jacket in a stranger's pile of proofs. It was raining in Brooklyn when she took it. She had been commissioned by a graphic designer to shoot a series called "Urban Solitude"—a photograph of a man sitting alone on...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Zero Point ParadoxI can see them all. I sit at the center of the Nexus, the singular point where every possible version of the universe intersects. To my left, a world where the Roman Empire never fell; to my right, a galaxy where stars are made of sentient glass. I am Dr. Thorne, the man who found the Zero Point, the master of the Multiverse. For decades, I believed I was the savior of existence. I watched as...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The cellar was cold even in August, which was the point. Colonel Beauregard had built it in 1820 to store wine, and the wine had long since been drunk or spoiled, but the cold remained, rising from the earth like the patience of something buried.Zek liked the cold. It kept the objects honest. He was arranging a new piece on the shelf: a wooden horse, carved by a man named Jonah three weeks before his eight-year-old son was sold to a sugar plantation in Louisiana. The horse was rough—Jonah was a blacksmith, not a carpenter—but the legs were strong and the mane had been combed, once, with a knife, and on the flank, carved so shallowly...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The door to the warehouse was supposed to be locked. That was the point. Jack Malone did not knock on unlocked doors.He stood in the rain outside a third-floor walkup in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, and stared at the steel door like it was a math problem he had already solved. His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He ignored it. The text was from Detective Santos, probably asking if he had made contact yet. He would text back in an hour with something vague. That was his style. Jack had been a trader on Wall Street...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
-
If you're still awake, if you're still looking for something—this is for you.That was Eli "Echo" Green's opening line, every night at 2:17 AM, on a frequency that didn't officially exist. WKRC-FM was a ghost station, a radio show broadcast from a converted closet in a Harlem walk-up, heard by anyone who happened to be tuned to 104.7 at the right hour and lucky enough to catch the signal as it rose above the city's electromagnetic noise. Eli was twenty-eight, Black, born...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
Title: The Liturgy of Waiting(Act I: The Outset) The ink on my letters had long since faded, but the hope in my heart remained as vivid as the day Arthur sailed for the colonies. It was 1862, and the world was a map of empires and ambition. When he left, he promised me that his service was a temporary sacrifice for a permanent future. I remember the way he looked at me on the docks—a mixture of duty and desperation—and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
Dark Matter - V2: The Resonance Cascade (Cosmic Horror / Lovecraftian)Audit Log #47.03 — Date: 2077.03.15 — Auditor: Dr. Amir Hassan — Status: UNRESOLVED Subject: Dream bleed, case 47. Three independently reported dreams from users in Toronto, Nairobi, and Melbourne. All three reports describe identical content with 100% semantic overlap. Temporal correlation: all three dreams initiated within 0.8 milliseconds of each other. Probability of independent generation:...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Empty NotebookChapter One The bar was called Last Stop. Not ironic. Not aspirational. Just a description. It was the last bar on a block that had been the last block for a long time. The next block was a vacant lot where a steel warehouse had burned down in 2008. Beyond that was nothing—empty land, chain-link fence, and the railroad tracks that separated Chicago from everywhere else. Ray Kowalski sat behind...0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
More Stories