A Simple Life Book Novels & Stories

SHAWNA'S POV: Life has always been cruel to me, I have lost all those who were once close to my heart. Standing here all alone. Well, they say, nobody's life is perfect and neither is that they are perfect... But guess that is how life is, like me. I am not perfect or either my life is, for me, life is now a mystery. It is always in suspense what the next morning bring for me?... LIFE... the four-letter word... it's amusing how tiny and simple it looks, but when we see it closely, it is a big wide world. It would take another novel to write it all about.

The queen asked, making herself home on the chair next to mine. I smiled sadly and handed her the book. “It's about a woman, or rather, the last few days of her life before she died from cancer.” “Sounds depressing, and yet so relatable. It's so funny how someone's life could be measured by what she did in her last days, as if she did not live a lifetime. I hope you won't mind lending me once you are finished.” She smiled and returned the book to me. “So, how are you? I heard about what happened last night.”

I have never had big dreams of becoming a CEO who owns companies. I think that I achieved my dream, I wrote a book, not a book, but a collection of pathetic poems about life. When I say pathetic, I mean sad, because sad is all that my life has ever been. But I guess that nothing lasts for one hundred years, and I am one of them. I enjoyed some parts of my life, the earlier parts and some parts of my later life too. My life has always been between pages in a book, that is all. I have always enjoyed art, manipulated it behind closed doors. It’s not an interesting life, though it is a favorite for me. My favorite story is Africa Kills her Sun, by Ken Saro Wiwa, I have read the story ever since

But underneath all of those things, at the very centre of what the second book was, there was something simpler. "It says that what remains is everything," she said. "That the life you build after the fire — the ordinary, daily, imperfect, chosen life — is not the lesser thing. It's the whole thing. The fire was necessary and the fire was real and the fire cost everything it cost and it also produced this. The kitchen and the table and the mornings and the evenings and the children and the writing and the friendship and the marriage that is honest and real and ours." She paused. "It says that staying — in yourself, in your own life, in the truest version of who you are — is not the compromis

And the letter says: "To my dearest Dylan, The moment you read this letter I wrote last night, I assumed that I was already halfway through to reach New York City. It has been almost a month since we found solace and joy in each other's arms, living in Mr. and Mrs. Delaven's house. Those days felt like a dream come true to me, us, pretending to be an ordinary couple, attempting to live and adopt a simple life to experience the simple pleasure of life. I cherished every moment we spent together, cherishing the laughter, our few misunderstandings, the tender moments, and the love that filled that tiny room of ours. But, Dylan, my love, as much as my heart aches to say this, I have to put an en

She looked stunned when they brought her into the room, something we're all used to when someone outside the family sees Pop's largess for the first time up-close and personal. "Wow, what is this?" She gravitated to the books that lined one wall, all classics, most of which were collector's editions. "Is this an original Herodotus?" She pulled her hand back from the volume making the twins laugh, and me smile. She acts like Pop and Uncle Garrett with books. They swear the rest of us are heathens because we don't all genuflect before the greats like they do.

"You've got some nerve putting your hands on me. Just so you know, I'm Mark's wife." She looped her arms around my neck and whined, "Honey, you've gotta get back at him for me. He was bullying me." She even began shifting in my lap on purpose. My silence made her fidgety. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Say something already. You proposed to me in our last life, remember? I'm saying yes now." Her breath slid warm along the side of my neck. I watched her, the same woman who wouldn't even let me touch her in my past life, now doing everything she could to seduce me. All I felt was disgust, like something filthy had rubbed off on me.

An unscrupulous company discharges toxic wastewater into the river, causing my whole family to be poisoned because we rely on that river for survival. Everyone in my family, including my aunts and uncles, lives in the same village. We're all waiting for an urgent antidote delivery to save our lives. My boyfriend is Harrison Somers, and his company is the only one with the antidote. So, I ask him for it. He agrees to come but doesn't show up after a long time. Ultimately, my family members die after being tormented by the toxic wastewater because they don't have the antidote. Meanwhile, Harrison shows up at the hospital with his childhood sweetheart because she accidentally sliced her fin

She decided to document her journey and insights in a book—a heartfelt memoir that would serve as a guide for future generations. With great care, Luna poured her wisdom onto the pages, sharing her personal struggles, triumphs, and the profound lessons she had learned. She weaved together stories of her own experiences, anecdotes from the people she had met along the way, and the transformative power of authenticity. The book, titled "Embracing True Colors: A Journey of Authenticity," was published and received with great enthusiasm. Its impact spread far and wide, touching the lives of individuals who sought guidance and inspiration on their own paths to self-discovery.

Alex's POV Life is like an unwritten book, where you get to be the star of your own story, crafting it day by day. And like any other book, as you travel through the pages, it's the highs and lows that keep you - the reader - enthralled, making the tale worth telling.