Book Review Still Life Novels & Stories

Thanks to my previous life at the Fisheries Bureau, lining up buyers was a piece of cake. Before I could truly got the pearls, I had already locked in deals with a hundred merchants for steady buys. In under six months, I made a killing as a middleman, raking in 100,000 dollars in no time flat. The day I went home to pay off my debt, Holly's jaw dropped at the sight of my stylish outfit. The mild climate where I stayed had worked wonders on my skin, making it smooth and glowy. Holly gave me a once-over and said, "By the looks of you, you didn't stick with the troops. You talk a good game, but really, you just left your hubby on the front lines while you lived it up."

Kai walked off toward Ms Leta who was still busy reading her book, probably to speak to her about something. Clarissa didn’t follow him as she was drawn to the shelves already. She walked through the rows as her fingers brushed along the books gently. Most of the books had thick covers. “Pattern Drafting Vol 1,”Clarissa read the book titles in a low tone as her eyes wandered to find the one she wanted. “History of Fabric Dyeing, Creative Sketching 101.” She moved down the aisles, her eyes still scanning the books. Some were old while others looked rather new.

Brooklyn asked. Turning away from Kendall, he said, “It’s a short piece about a man looking back on his life as he is dying.” “Wow, that sounds interesting,” Addy said. “I think it sounds a bit depressing,” Shea said, frowning. Brooklyn nudged her and said, “I think that sounds fascinating. I can’t wait to see it.” “I’ll have to let you know when the festival is and get you some tickets if you’d like to see it,” he offered.

Astrid went to the very corner of the library where the books that belong to the mystery section were located, she was fond of reading mystery genre books as well as horror. She already has many collections at home but she wants to explore more. "Nice," her eyes were fixed on a book when she read its title. "Arts of Death, photography and reasons." Her attention was immediately hooked by it so she hurried and picked it up and brought it to the selected table. Many things were bothering her mind while opening the book. The feeling of enthusiasm-her eyes sparked upon seeing the pictures from the book, trying to focus her eyes to the left page wherein a dead bird being pinned in a transparent w

She followed Willow around the corner and into an aisle labeled Biographical Histories. Willow stopped in front of the third shelf and ran her puffy hands along the spines, finally pulling out a book and handing it to Clara: Historic Crimes in Hiestora. When Clara pried it open, the book issued a hissing sound and she noticed it suddenly felt lighter in her hands. Cracking open the dusty tome, Clara noticed pictures that were moving as if the history was playing out once again inside these pages. Below the pictures were written texts of the events.

The herbs and insects were not known in this country and some were thought to be extinct. "They will not be," he muttered, reaching for his pipe and pressing down the piquant mix of tobacco. "Only hidden and cultivating in the hands of one who appreciates their glory." He moved across to the bookcase where a domed crystal sat beside old and new books, the soft blue hue constantly glowing and crafting a strange light from its polished surface. Even the dust, that settled snugly within the pages of the tomes surrounding it, dared not touch it. As his hands took hold of it, the room darkened, as if the thick curtains had been drawn across the window, but all remained still, the light seeming to

But the truth settled in my chest like a weight. Leah was more than she appeared. And something told me this was only the beginning. --- I stayed late that night. Everyone else had gone home, but I needed the silence. I walked the empty halls of Montego, lights dimmed to half-power, the entire building humming softly around me. As I passed Naomi's floor, I saw it—Leah’s desk. Empty, clean, Not a paper out of place. But on the edge of her desk was a book. A thin paperback with a worn spine. The Art of Stillness.

The bodyguard dropped me off at the villa and took off. I noticed him entering the code while he was unlocking the door. It wasn't the old password anymore—it was Joanna's birthday. I limped inside and glanced around. It looked the same as it did three years ago, but it felt totally different. A pair of men's and women's slippers sat by the entrance. They must have been Henry's and Joanna's. Henry's bedroom had two pillows on the bed. His clothes were neatly arranged on the left side of the closet, while Joanna's occupied the right.

They were hard to miss. He knew full well that those were all the gifts he and Ivor had given me over the years. "What is she trying to do? Is she crazy?" Ivor stopped before a pair of plaster figurines. They were crafted in our likeness, once my most treasured possession. But there they were now, sat in the living room gathering dust. Annoyed, Ivor whipped out his phone to call me. "Get Eleanor from her room right now." An unsettling feeling gnawed at Jeffrey. For some reason, he felt this time was different, as if I were intending to sever all ties with them.

The elders exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to make of the scandal unfolding before them. "Who says I'm without proof?" I smirked, pulling out a digital recorder. "Here's the juicy bit of Derick and Jasmine's midnight rendezvous from last night. While they played me for a fool, the kid they thought was mine was burning up with fever all alone in his bed!"