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21/12/1983
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The Slow Slide into GreenIt did not happen all at once. Nothing ever does. The road to damnation is paved with small compromises, each one so reasonable at the time that you do not notice the direction you are traveling until the landscape has become unrecognizable. I met Danny Vance on a Tuesday. He was alive then. He was dying, but he was alive. The cancer had spread to his lymph nodes, and the doctors had given him...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотрВойдите, чтобы отмечать, делиться и комментировать!
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The Burning DeepThe earth in Appalachia remembers things that people forget. My father used to tell me that when we were driving down into the mine shaft, and I would ask him why the rocks sometimes sounded like they were whispering. He would say, "That is the earth remembering, Wyatt. It has been here longer than we have, and it will be here longer. What it says in its sleep, we just happen to hear." I did...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Mississippi DriftAct I: The Eyes in the Sky The house at the end of Bayou Teche had been dying for longer than Silas Duvalle had been alive, and it was dying in the way that Southern houses die: slowly, gracefully, and with a kind of stubborn dignity that made the decay almost respectable. The French roof leaked in the rains. The cypress pillars leaned at angles that geometry would disapprove of but beauty...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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THE DAY THE EARTH STOPOUTI The street tilted three degrees to the left, which meant the parked cars were slowly sliding toward the curb, and the curbs were slowly rising toward the cars, and eventually—within months, maybe years—they would meet in the middle and the street would be blocked entirely. Mike O'Connor noticed this on a Tuesday, in the rain, while driving his yellow cab down Broadway in Upper Manhattan. He...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 5 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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Bull WorkACT I: THE AWAKENING The bottle caught Bull O'Brien in the back of the head at 11:30 PM on a Tuesday in March, 2018. He was standing in the back room of The Rusty Nail, a bar on East Market Street in Youngstown, Ohio, counting a stack of cash that belonged to a guy named Mike. The bottle came from Mike's hand, swung when Bull refused to pay protection money to a crew that had been extorting...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 6 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Patient from BelowThe asylum had been closed for twenty years before the Sleep came, but the children of Boston knew it by reputation the way children know about forbidden places: through whispers and warnings and the peculiar silence that falls over a room when someone mentions the Holloway Asylum in a voice that suggests they have been told not to speak of it at all. Theo Ashworth had never been inside. He was...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 6 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Manor of Stars## Act I - The Setup (20%) Beatrice Beauregard returned to the family manor after her father's death expecting grief, debt, and the slow erosion of a name that meant nothing to anyone who mattered. What she did not expect was the cellar. The Beauregard plantation had once covered three thousand acres of Mississippi Delta. Now it covered thirty, and the cotton was dying by inches. Bea,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 9 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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THE GILDED CANVASParis, 1924 — New York, 1926 Isabelle Moreau did not paint to please anyone. She painted because the colors would not stop singing to her, and if she did not answer them, they would tear her apart from the inside. Her studio in Greenwich Village was a converted attic that smelled of turpentine and damp plaster. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with canvases—abstract compositions of...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 11 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Mathematical Peace (V-12)Elias Thorne lived in a small, white house on the edge of a quiet village in Vermont. He was a retired physicist, a man who had once helped build the first warp drives, but who now spent his days tending to a garden of pale blue hydrangeas. He lived a life of profound simplicity, far removed from the noise of the cities. The world knew that the "Heat Death" was coming. It wasn't a sudden...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 758 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Twenty-Fourth HourMarcus lived in a world of gray concrete and white noise. He was a patient at the St. Jude’s Institute for Neurological Disorders, though he suspected the "doctors" were actually jailers. He lived in a room with no windows, a single bed, and a clock that ticked with an aggressive, mechanical precision. Marcus had a secret: he could feel the seams of time. He discovered it on a Tuesday. At...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 19 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Fool's Oracle(NY Realism Style) Leo Vance believed in "The System." The System was a complex series of correlations between the weather in Omaha, the price of cinnamon in Sri Lanka, and the batting averages of the New York Yankees. For three years, the System had been a miracle. Leo had turned a thousand dollars into ten million, and ten million into a hundred million. He was the toast of Manhattan. He was...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 19 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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The Ashworth Lodging HouseThe fog did not roll in on that November evening in 1888—it descended, slowly, like a curtain drawn across the world. Mrs. Beatrice Ashworth stood at the top of the staircase in the Bloomsbury lodging house and watched it through the frosted glass of the front door. It was thick enough to swallow a man whole, she thought, and then she thought: that is what fog does. It swallows men, and houses,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 19 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
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