Root & Wire
## Root & Wire The dust tasted like rust, clinging to Elara’s tongue as she walked the cracked earth of her family’s farm. Fifteen years old, and already a landscape sculptor, carving canyons in the parched soil with each weary…
paranormal
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Echo Forests
## Echo Forests The rain smelled of rust and regret, clinging to Elias’s worn leather jacket. He squinted through the downpour, tracing a path carved into the crimson moss that coated everything in this place. It wasn’t just moss; it…
The Stillborn City
## The Stillborn City The rain tasted of ash. Elias pressed his face deeper into the worn collar of his raincoat, feeling the damp chill seep into his bones. He’s been tracking these cases for six months—cases that defy logic,…
Echo Weaver
## The Echo Weaver The rain tasted like rust. Elara spat, pushing a damp strand of auburn hair from her face. The dig site at the Whispering Peaks felt colder than usual, leaching warmth straight from her bones. Weeks she’s…
Echo Bloom
## Echo Bloom The wind bit at Elias’s cheeks, tasting of rust and damp coal dust. He pulled his parka tighter, the threadbare fabric offering meager defense against the November chill blanketing West Virginia. Above him, the dome of the…
Echo Bloom
## Echo Bloom The rain tasted like iron. Not a sharp, metallic tang, but the dull ache of rusted nails pressed against the tongue. Elara licked her lips, the chill clinging to them despite the humid Georgia air. She stood…
The Longwave Echo
## The Longwave Echo The dust tasted like static. Wren coughed, pushing a strand of faded-blue hair from her face as she surveyed the abandoned diner. Chrome gleamed dully beneath a thick layer of grime, vinyl booths cracked like ancient…
The Echo in the Static
Dust motes danced in the beam of Leo’s headlamp, a miniature galaxy swirling within the dome of the abandoned Lowell Observatory. The air tasted of rust and regret. He traced a finger across the chipped enamel of the telescope’s base,…
The Glitch in the System
The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt gritty under Leo’s elbows. He stabbed a french fry with enough force it nearly bounced off the plate. Across from him, Maya traced the rim of her water glass, her knuckles white.…