8 Days Book Novels & Stories

“Let’s crack open that one.” “Fine,” August says, handing the book over to me with a slight shudder. I open it, not enjoying the feel of the Human leather and the fact that it’s very close to animal leather. “Gods, I hope that’s in there. Because I can’t bring myself to look for more.”

It was dated July 9th 1984. Incredible that we had just been reliving this last night. "Fate" I heard my brothers voice clearly in my head. Mark never believed anything happened that wasn't supposed to the exact way it was supposed to. This book contained a decade of our relationship from the fun to the not so fun as I know I had written many things about my addiction in there. As I looked towards the back of the journal the last group of pages were separated by a piece of paper and a ribbon. Without looking I know I had written the words "Darkest Days" on there.

Three hours later, as dusk fell, Kit finally left the airport and drove home. The moment he stepped through the door, he hung up his coat as he usually would, when his gaze caught the faint outline left behind the door where a photo frame had once been. He turned toward the nearest trash bin. There, amid shards of broken glass, lay the photo of us. He crouched down slowly and retrieved it. As he stared at the image, the memory stirred: it had been taken eight years ago, at the concert we attended together.

Day 2: Eggs again, overcooked and rubbery. Eggs for breakfast and eggs for lunch. The maids giggled sarcastically while I ate them. Sure, they thought this was funny. Eden, locked up and forced to eat eggs all day. Well, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me suffer. I ate the eggs with a smile. And guess what? I found a book! It was under the bed. It must have been kicked under there and forgotten about. It was a historical romance, too. What fun! See. I could pass the time easily. Now that I had something to read, the time would fly by! Day 3:

“I’m waiting for you to make one.” She held his gaze. Felt the book in her hands. The warmth of him along her side. The amber light going golden now as the sun dropped. “Eight days,” she said quietly. “Eight days,” he agreed. And then, slowly, deliberately, giving her every opportunity to lean away, knowing fully well she wouldn’t take it, he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. One finger. A single, gentle movement. The back of his finger against her cheekbone for just a second.

Outside, the wind stirred the trees as though the forest itself had heard the sentence that had just been spoken. Eight days. Only eight days. Not to save a kingdom. Not to end a war. Not to solve an ancient mystery. Eight days… To bring the man I loved home before death reached him first.

She has sat through the shortest day and known the morning would begin the return. He thought: the honest room holds the person through the shortest day and is ready for the lengthening. He thought: the practice is the same. The preparation through the long preparation and then the light begins to return. He thought about the eight years. He thought about the first year and sitting at the window and the inability to work and the discovery that the solstice required stillness. He thought about the eight solstices — the eight days of sitting and the city in December and the light from ten until three and the early dark at three and the long evening of the shortest day.

Shelve of books. Books! So he reads? She walked over and took a big book out of the shelve. It had a red cover. It was probably the most attractive book there. “Mo... Mo... what kinda language is this?” she scoffed trying to pronounce the name of the book. He appeared out of no where again took the book from her and placed it back on the shelve. “I forgot to tell you earlier. I was just too excited. They are rules in my room.” He said and placed his both hands on her shoulder pulling her away from the shelve.

Chapter 8 [Let go memories] It’s been 24 days since I have been here, away from my friends and family. Today, I remember sweet little Evie. I wonder how she’s doing at the moment. Her cancer was at a critical stage already. Her chances of survival were below five percent. I wanted to be there with her, to be there for her. She was all her father got left. Caleb walked in to announce the Alpha was would be coming to see me in a few minutes.

300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 words.Please write a description for your story with 20 to 300 wor