0 Comments
0 Shares
9 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Last Shift at Kincaid SteelRaymond Kowalski punched out at five-fifteen on a Thursday in March and walked to his locker the same way he had walked to his locker for eighteen years: shoulders forward, head down, the kind of walk that said the floor beneath your feet was not something you could count on. He was forty-six years old, and he knew two things about himself that he was certain were true. The first was that he...0 Comments 0 Shares 8 Views 0 Reviews
-
Nobody Hears the TruckAct I: The Box Tommy Reeves didn't like favors. Not because he was principled. He just didn't like favors because favors were the kind of thing that led to things you didn't want to think about. But his boss, a man named Delaney who had the face of someone who had spent forty years eating food he didn't want to eat, said it would only take ten minutes, so Tommy did it. The box was in the back...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Eternal ObserverThe city was a bruised purple, leaking rain and neon. I lived in a room that smelled of old cigarettes and regret, working as a private eye for people who didn't want to be found. I didn't believe in forever. In my line of work, forever is just the time it takes for a bullet to find your heart. Then came the case of the "Glass Soul." A client had hired me to find a missing scientist who had...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Price of a Second(New York Modernism Style) The deal was struck in a sterile white room in Midtown. No contracts, no lawyers, just a small blue pill and a verbal agreement. "One year of life," the technician had said, "in exchange for one human function. Randomly selected. No exceptions." Julian was thirty-four and terrified of the void. He took the pill. The first year was a miracle. He felt a surge of energy...0 Comments 0 Shares 6 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Gray SignalThe rain that night fell for three whole days, just like Oscar's luck — it would eventually stop, but you never knew when. I was sitting in a bar on South State Street in Chicago, the kind of bar that existed in the space between respectability and ruin, with neon signs that flickered like dying fireflies and a jukebox that played songs about heartbreak and whiskey and the kind of loneliness...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
-
The sea off the Lofoten Islands was the colour of iron, which is to say it was the colour of nothing in particular, the way a man's face is the colour of nothing when he has stopped pretending to feel anything.Erik Solberg sat on the rocks above the fjord and watched the tide. He had been watching the tide for eleven months and fourteen days. Every morning at 5:30, he sat on these same rocks with a waterproof notebook and a pencil wrapped in oilcloth, and he recorded the water level, the wind speed, the direction, the temperature of the air and the sea. He did this because his mentor, Arne Rasmussen,...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Rain in Chicago: Russian Existential Noir VariantThe Rain in Chicago: Russian Existential Noir Variant Batch 9 - Work ID 71749: The Rain in Chicago Doesn't Wash Things Clean. It Just Makes the Grime Wetter. The cold in St. Petersburg doesn't fall so much as it waits, a permanent winter that settles into your bones and your philosophy and your dreams. Dmitri sat in his apartment near the Nevsky Prospect and watched the grey light streak down...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Algorithm of Echoes(New York Realism Style) The office was a glass cage suspended forty floors above Manhattan, where the air was filtered and the souls were sterile. Elias was a junior analyst at QuantEdge, a firm that didn't trade stocks, but traded time. He spent fourteen hours a day staring at a screen, processing the "Longevity Indices" of the city's elite. Six months ago, Elias had found the glitch. It was...0 Comments 0 Shares 8 Views 0 Reviews
-
Title: The Cog in the MachineThe fluorescent lights of the Logistics Hub hummed with a predatory frequency, a sound that Leo felt in the marrow of his bones. He spent twelve hours a day in a steel cage of a workstation, tracking the movement of a million parcels across a grey, rain-slicked city. To his supervisors, Leo was just Employee #8842, a biological component in a vast, automated system. But Leo had a secret: he...0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek