Anthem Novels & Stories

He lowered the window pane and looked at his lady love. She was murmuring Hanuman chalisa (a sacred hymn of Hanuman, a Hindu god believed to be immortal and gives protection to the ones who remembers him in the time of problem and misery) and moving slowly and was actually bribing god to help her out today and then she will take care of her car from next day.... Rudra chuckled and that was when Sakshi stopped with her murmuring and looked sideways.... She was stunned to see him in front of herself....

"En. Let's go inside. " "Okay.." He keep looking around because the place is to shabby. They entered the small wooden house but no one inside so They walk towards the exit door. By then, they entered the place where there's a lot of shining trees that planted as sign of the pathway. They are shining because of the very small light bulbs that is hanging in every branches. The stone pathway lead them to the area where there were a lot of dim lights on the ground. The table in the center and the small cottages in every corner.

Things happened and in the blink of an eye, I pushed the door open and to say my breath seized would be an understatement. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Two rows of maples lay on each side, with a road running between them. Athena walked into the cemetery. Her purple eyes filled with the pain of her past as she rested her hand on her stomach. The ring shone in the evening glow, glowing brighter than the sun. In her hands, she clutched a bouquet of lilies of the valley. The flower that symbolizes hope. But what hope does she have? It had been five months since they buried him—five months since he broke the promise that he would always be there with her. She wakes up, eats, and goes back to bed. This is what her life had been like. There was no glimmer, no reminiscence of happy memories, no hope, and certainly no chance for love in her life. F

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

The house seemed very quiet, you could hear the sound of a pin, if dropped. Almost everyone had gone for service, since it was a Sunday morning. Alexandra stares into the space. She was currently standing in the veranda, clearly staring into the space. You could mistake it for the gate. She wasn't feeling too well, besides she hardly attended services.

Her peaceful bubble of life, pinned down and leaking with every new minute she spent in her old house. All of it stemmed from that single face that hovered at the edges of her nerves like a plague. Her hand that moves to adjust her pillow touches a sleek texture and the young girl pauses. The resin rose is staring up at her like it always did when she lays her gaze on it. Faintly, she remembers clutching at it before she went to sleep, but it only adds more irritation to Alina's already crumbling mood. Without a word, she sets it down with a clank, and then heads out the room with a tug of a new bubble gum pink shirt.

Joel and Olive sit in the front row, close enough to the aisle that Joel can stand first if anything stupid happens, and we all know something stupid will happen. The amphitheater is our old trial place, half stone, half sky, ringed with sycamores and other growths. It smells like dust, rivers, and the kind of attention that pricks one's nose and throat. Grady threads his fingers through mine. Sparks ladder my bones. “Together,” he murmurs. “Together,” I say, and mean it all the way to my soul. Elder Max raises a hand when everyone is in position.

Aunt Agatha placed various crystals and herbs at the points of a large circle encompassing the bed, the smell of sage and lavender filling the room. They stood at the head of the bed, their hands raised as they began to chant in a language ancient and powerful. The words resonated in the air, vibrating with an energy that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. "Spiritus antiquus, porta ad animarum terram, aperi," Aunt Agatha intoned, her voice deep and commanding. "Periculum accipimus, viam monstramus, viam tibi ad cor meum," Aunt Yennefer continued, her voice weaving through the air like a melody.

"Over to you Choir, the bride enters now." The choir was on their feet again as the keyboardist began playing the solemn keys to the melody of the hymn: When The Mists Have Rolled In Splendour; The congregation rose and watched as Reverend Anthony slowly walked his daughter forward to the solemn music the choir was singing; When the mists have rolled in splen-dour From the beau-ty of the hills, And the sunlight falls in gladness, on the river and the rills, We recall our Father's promise