48 Hours Novels & Stories

It's 2:45pm. Our date is at 3:00pm. It is a five-minute walking distance from mom's place. So I don't need a car. I check my bag one last time. My new phone. My charger. My water bottle. Wet wipes. A pack of pads. A roll of tissue. A pair of sunglasses. Perfect. I am good to go. I put on my round green-ish sunglasses, which I bought just the other day.

You know the apple does not fall far from the tree? “No. Ah. Just leave me here. And find help. Ah. Please.” He cried in a massive amount of pain “Kade you are being irrational. You in pain. There’s no way I will do that.” “Brand-on. Please. Tell me. How, long will the venom will remain? In my body.” “Approximately. 48-72 hours. Give or take this is Medusa's kin, so there's no way of a direct answer.” “Leave me. I will survive. Please go help my sis-t-ers.”

Forty-eight hours until he left. Forty-eight hours to fix this. Or forty-eight hours to lose him forever.

"Anything else we should know?" The woman slides the package across the counter. "The effects last approximately four hours. I'd suggest clearing your schedule." Her eyes flick between us. "And perhaps starting with the Kiss before adding the Echoes." Outside, the night air feels charged, every shadow holding possibility. Circe pulls me into a narrow alley between two buildings, the darkness absolute except for distant lamplight. She presses me against the rough brick wall, her body flush against mine. "Four hours," she murmurs against my lips. "What should we do first?"

Grace picked her glass back up. She had forty-eight hours to decide. She would use them well.

He picked it up and looked at it. "Elara," he said. "I am not done being angry about this," I said. "I want you to know that." "I know." "Sunday is still Sunday. But I need a few days first." He nodded. He stood and picked up the piece of paper and put it in his coat pocket. At the door he stopped and looked back. Damien had moved from the window and was standing beside me now. "The forty eight hours," Daniel said. "Thank you for that."

asked Jackson. “It ends at four in the afternoon, so it’s roughly two hours.”

I am no longer restricted to drinking only liquids and can now consume solid foods. One complete week, seven full days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes, 604,800 seconds, plus all the other possible combinations of waiting for that long. The day after tomorrow, I have to travel back home. When that time comes, it will have been eight days since it started. I've been growing antsy. I don't need somebody to accompany me when I go to the bathroom. Sometimes Mark will be able to take the mask off for a few minutes, and at such times I will be able to see him genuinely smiling rather than having to speculate as to whether or not he is.

"When do we leave?" "Sunset. Four hours."

Several of his men are kneeling behind her, bruised, beaten and exhausted, but breathing. "That’s good right? At least we know they are alive now." Elias says and Daniel lets out a broken sound. “There is more.” He says hoarsely as he scrolls to a message under the image. "You have forty-eight hours. Do as you’re told. Or I start sending pieces.” Peter reads it out loud and the room goes deadly quiet. Daniel presses the phone to his chest. Peter looks at me. “Forty-eight hours.” He murmurs and I nod my head.