-
181 Articoli
-
0 Foto
-
0 Video
-
Female
-
12/10/1982
-
Seguito da 0 people
Aggiornamenti recenti
-
The Heat Beneath Oakhaven ManorChapter I: The Inheritance The heat in Mississippi did not merely sit upon you—it pressed, like a hand between the shoulder blades, pushing you down into the earth you had inherited and would one day be buried in. Silas Beauregard stood on the porch of Oakhaven Manor, watching the afternoon thunderstorms gather over the cotton fields. The house behind him was large and decaying, its white...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 AnteprimaEffettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
-
The Ink and the CanvasAct I -- The Spark The gas lamps along Bloomsbury street threw their amber haloes upon the wet cobblestones as Adeline Foster hurried through the November fog, her shawl drawn tight against a cold that had nothing to do with the weather. She carried under her arm the latest issue of The Monthly Review, its pages still bearing the faint chemical scent of the publisher's press. Inside was her...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
THE LAST LIGHT OF NEW CARTHAGEI found Grandfather's diary in the cellar on a Tuesday in October, 1872. The house was cold—the coal fire had been banked too early, as it always is when one lives alone—and the smell of damp stone and forgotten things rose to meet me as I descended the narrow stairs with a candle in my hand. There, behind a stack of water-stained furniture covers, in a tin box whose lock had rusted solid, was...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
V-05: The Neon BetrayalThe rain in the city didn't wash anything away; it only smeared the neon lights into iridescent oil slicks on the asphalt. Clara operated a small, discreet clinic in the shadow of the monolithic corporate towers, treating the casualties of a city that chewed people up and spat them out as data. She was a woman of science and silence, her life a carefully constructed fortress of professionalism...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
Sample-V04: The Silent GuardianThe New York Public Library is a fortress of silence, and I am its ghost. My name is Sarah, and I spend my days organizing the thoughts of dead men and my nights watching the living from the edges of the stacks. I have always been an observer, a woman who finds more comfort in the predictable margins of a book than in the chaotic noise of a conversation. Then I noticed Mark. He came in every...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Half-War of Blackwood HallThe fog came in early that autumn, thicker than any September fog Margaret had ever known. It curled around Blackwood Hall like a living thing, pressing against the stained-glass windows until the rooms inside took on a permanent twilight quality. Margaret stood at her bedroom window on the third floor and watched it swallow the garden path stone by stone. The letter had arrived three days ago....0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 5 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Canary's SongI. The typewriter in my room at the Ritz sounded like gunfire. Every keystroke was a small violence, a percussive punctuation against the silence that Jon preferred. He had bought me the typewriter—a Royal, black and gleaming—along with the room, along with everything else. It was, he believed, a gift that acknowledged my nature as a writer. In practice, it was a reminder that even my writing...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 5 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Slow RejectionThe house was on Maple Street in a town that appeared on no one's radar until it appeared on everyone's and then disappeared again, which is the lifecycle of every Midwest college town in 2005: noticed briefly by people who were looking for something to notice and then forgotten by the same people when they found something else. The town had a university, which brought a constant rotation of...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
-
THE LAST LIGHTThe antenna was old. That was the first thing Matt Wheeler noticed when he arrived at Outpost Delta—that everything about it was old. The dish was scratched and faded. The transmitter unit was a model that had been discontinued five years ago. The cables were frayed in places and patched with electrical tape in others. It was the kind of equipment that the Army kept because replacing it would...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 6 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The fog rolled off the Thames at half-past seven, thick and yellow as old wool. Thomas Ashworth stood at his window on Lambeth Road and watched it swallow the bridges, one arch at a time.He had been waking at this hour for eleven years. Since he was a boy, sleeping on a pallet in the back room of the workhouse on Southwark Bridge. Eleven years, and the habit had stuck the way calluses stick to the hand. Below him, the street was still empty. A gas lamp flickered and went out. The fog took its place. Thomas turned from the window and walked to the small desk where he kept the...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Alchemist's GriefI. The notebook arrived with the rest of my father's effects, wrapped in oilcloth and tied with twine that had grown brittle with age. It was small, no larger than a prayer book, bound in leather the colour of dried blood. I was twelve years old, and London was a city I only knew through my father's stories of the mines—not Yorkshire anymore, but the memory of Yorkshire, because we had been...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 6 Views 0 Anteprima
-
The Glow in the Glass HouseThe greenhouses of Blackmore Hall did not belong in Yorkshire. That was the first thought Evelyn Ashworth had when she inherited them at twenty-five. Three glass structures, each the size of a small church, jutting from the edge of the moor like the ribs of some great creature picked clean by crows. The Yorkshire wind had shattered half their panes. The other half held together a million shards...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
Altre storie