Bihar Diaries Mga Nobela at Kwento

A small, easy breath left him. Then he opened the diary again and turned the page. “Alright,” he muttered. “Let’s see what’s next.” ______ Episode 8 – The Serial Cheater The air in the dimly lit hotel bar was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and spilled whiskey, but Marcus breathed it in like it was pure oxygen. At a corner table, he leaned back in his leather chair, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as he watched her.

The orange hue of the sky was pleasant as the sun sank for a siesta behind the Aravali's. "Bijolia...next stop Bijolia!" Shouted the conductor. Mrinal and Vidhi got off the bus and looked around the little village which gave off a pale glow of electricity. Vidhi looked around and then said, "That's the guest house. Let's go!"  Entering the lodge, the two girls sat down and took out the book. Placing it on the floor they turned the page as carefully as possible. Mrinal began reading the words.... "Eklinji ra pranam,

Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from. Tears fell down her cheeks as she was reading it. 'As you are reading this, you perhaps already know that I left or I am on my way to the airport now. My plane flies at 10 pm. I don't honestly know where I am going and why. But always remember that I'll forever support you. We'll talk daily, please don't cry. I miss you already. Happy birthday again.' As she finished, a sound of a car was heard. Carmen rushed to her bedroom's window and stared outside. It was Liam!

"Oh my God, you like her too. I have a book! I love her work." My mum has a book?! Wow! "Old school? It's not old school at all." "It is. In someway. She probably wrote that book when I was a toddler, or yet to be born. She's a reporter, you know her, right?" "I wouldn't have her name if I didn't. She's a reporter, yes, but I'm quite surprised. I didn't know she had a book." "She does. It's not fiction though. It's basically a collection of her reports from Africa. Their wars, economic crises and pandemics."

I then closed the diary, put my children to bed, and joined my husband beneath the covers. When my husband got on top of me, he said, "Your body is Soo warm." Ultimately, we had sex all night long. My life has been knowing happiness in my husband's house. I thought everything will be like this forever, not knowing it was marking another saga ahead. A saga I wasn't prepared for. A SAGA THAT INVOLVES THE SECRETS IN MY DIARY.

I started guessing. I typed in my date of birth—just because. And the safe clicked open. What the hell? I stood frozen for a second. That was not what I was expecting. Inside, there were no weapons—just letters and….. Diaries. Rows of them. I pulled them out one by one, hands trembling slightly. The thick scent of feminine perfume floated out—sweet, lingering, unmistakably Beatrice’s. It clung to the pages like a ghost. Whatever these diaries held, I couldn’t read them here. I had to go.

This way, she has another chance to live. …… His diaries were concise, but reading them made my eyes well up with tears.

Enjoy the journey ............. Emily POv : I was rearranging my cupboard, sorting through the piles of clothes and forgotten items, my fingers brushed against something unexpected—a diary. My diary. I paused, feeling a rush of memories flood back at the sight of the worn, weathered cover. It had been so long since I last laid eyes on it, tucked away amidst the clutter of my belongings. With curiosity, I retrieved the diary from its hiding place, feeling the weight of years past in my hands. As I flipped through its pages, the familiar scrawl of my own handwriting greeted me, each entry a window into moments long gone but not forgotten.

my head is still filled with this insane images and I didn't need some boy problems now the locker room was empty when I got there, perfect just what I needed , silence. I sat down slowly, my hands trembling slightly as I opened my bag. the diary was still there, staring at the cover, the bright colors, the stickers filled it front and back, the pink, purple, blue, white, red, all the fucking colors you can think of, it was her, literally and metaphorically her, it was supposed to be filled with adventures and names of friends but instead it corrupted with one persons name, it's so sickening how someone turned something so bright to something so dark, my hands tightens around the book , tear

My first memoir in a new diary. My old diary was filled with stories and stories of girls I've fucked and turned but after this incident that happened on 23/4/2027 I had to start a new diary. So... I was angry that mum was remarrying. I really hate the thought that she couldn't keep her pussy at check after dad's death and jumped into another man's arms. However, she kept reassuring me that it's going to be fine but I hate it as hell.