Artwork Novel Novels & Stories

---> if you are interested in my work, please check out my novel The Starving Vulture. Available on A****n, $3.99 for the Ebook and $14.95 for the Paperback https://www.a****n.com/Starving-Vulture-Miguel-Monta%C3%B1a/dp/1951150899<---------

No names. Just a stranger who helped me forget for one night. On Monday morning, I’m five minutes late to Renaissance Art, the elective I’m only taking because David said it would “round out my CV.” I quietly sit in the back row, avoiding everyone’s eyes. My whole body feels tired, and my heart feels empty. The professor is writing on the board with strong, sure strokes, his back turned. “Professor Mateo Sandoval” a student called. He turns around, about to answer the student and our eyes meet.

He wiped me down with clumsy care, taught himself to cook plain porridge, and slept on a narrow folding chair by my bed every night, fully dressed, just to be near. The day I was discharged, sunlight bathed the seaside town in gold. Nathan pushed my wheelchair, a cashmere blanket he had bought draped over me. Six months later, he rented the only art gallery in town and sponsored my very first solo exhibition. He named it 'Rebirth'. The bright, spacious hall was filled with the work I had poured my soul into for half a year. Storm-dark seas before a tempest. Iridescent light shimmering on rocks after rain. A daisy blooming toward the sun from a bookstore window.

LILY'S POV I used to think love was the safest place in the world. I used to think that when you found someone who saw your flaws and still chose you, you could breathe freely, knowing they’d never turn their back on you. That’s what Aiden was to me. Or at least, that’s what I believed. Three years ago, before the art exhibition meeting, I met him the very first time on a rainy Tuesday. I remember because my umbrella broke, and I ran into the nearest café dripping wet and furious.

Above my head, the phone chirped and sang, "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring." Mom pulled out the ice tray, took the bag of minced meat, and spread it on the floor to inspect it. I was about to burst into tears. "Beatrice, are you an idiot? You actually froze your phone in the refrigerator. It's no wonder you didn't answer when I called. What exactly is inside your head?

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.

Scars didn't matter to him. He still treated me like a goddess. Not the way Bruce made me hate my own reflection so damn much to the point I couldn't stand to look at it. *** I spent my nights working on my novel... Because all of the time that I was spending with Arturo was giving me more inspiration than ever. Writing the book that I'd started when I was in bed with Bruce that day... Forbidden Fruit. Arturo knew that I loved to write... But he didn't criticize me for it.

Ezra had noticed this yet he fell hard for him. The problem was, Kendall only ever treated him like a bro. A roommate. A guy you'd share instant noodles with at midnight, borrow ten bucks or a benjamin from, a guy he'd occasionally elbow in the ribs during late-night Dirt 5 gaming sessions. Ezra got Kendall's attention sure—but never in the way he wanted. Kendall saw him only as plain, ordinary, Ezra. So, Ezra had done something stupid. Something very reckless. He’d created Maya—a female catfish Winstagram account, with photoshopped pictures of a Brunette girl from Stock photos. He had replied Kendall's story about Kafka being possibly better than Dostoyevsky.

Loneliness shrouds him. If interested, you'are welcome to join the GOODNOVEL WORKSHOP group. https://www.f******k.com/groups/208103447982848 and please send your summary to: workshop@goodnovel.com