Boring Novels & Stories

Liam's voice brought me back from my thoughts "I am fine," I told him with a smile He sighed and said "are you getting bored? Did I do something wrong?" I looked at him with a shocked expression. Bored? How could he think like that? Why would I get bored with him?. It might be the opposite? I am a boring person and I don't know how to talk.

Things are actually quite boring now that there’s no one lounging in the living room, drinking wine and laughing over old days. I sigh into the glass of wine in my hand and sigh again audibly. I am so dang bored, I have, while sitting here after dinner, watched Raees, another new movie, got disgusting into the first ten minutes and just shut it off, choosing to browse on my phone and go through social media, something I never do, and see what’s going on in other people’s lives.

In the morning, I woke up early, feeling low of energy. People say that Mondays were the most boring days of the week but my Tuesday was the worst. Things didn’t excite me anymore, they have suddenly changed and no matter how hard I tried to fit in, there was something missing –something lurking in the dark shadows, waiting to be revealed.

Jason's POV I flip through books, magazines, anything I can find in the room. I even read the newspaper a couple times, it was boring. Finally, I decide to watch Tv. "I'm bored," I whine out loud. I switch the channel after a few seconds, then again, then again. There is nothing interesting. "I'm bored," I repeat again, a little louder than before. Hey! That sounded like a melody! I smirk and tap a beat on my chest, "I'm bored, I'm bored. Yeah, I'm bored."

Everybody but her would get an A. I don't give a fuck. This is stupid. I hate this class. Eat my ass. This exam is lame. I'm the most bored I've ever been. No wait, now I'm even more bored. Now more. More. More. Even more. Sooooooooooo bored. I hate this. This is pointless. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Nobody cares. That's as far as I read.

Not for anything. But there was something more real about that life, something that kept me awake and energized. Fear, probably. Nothing good. Still, for the last year, since buying the Biao, some part of me has been dormant. Sleep-walking through each day, no longer interested enough to pay attention. So fucking bored. The office door opens again behind me. I don’t bother turning around—Ariq is the only staff member who comes in here, barring the morning cleaner. “Problem?” I ask, peering down at the street below. A man who looks suspiciously like a drunk British aristocrat is weaving away along the sidewalk, shaking one fist in the air. “He seems to have gone without too much fight.”

I signed as I thought of ways to take my mind off this overwhelming news. *** " please remind me why I'm at the bookstore with you again for the hundredth time this week? " Chris whined as he followed me as I scanned the bookshelves while sliding my fingers on the spines of the book. I needed to get my mind off that letter I received so I went next door and begged Chris for a ride here but I could tell he was growing restless and strangely enough, so was I. "You know what?" I asked slowly while still sliding my fingers on the books

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, my mind still spinning from everything that had just unfolded. *** The rest of the day dragged on, each hour blending into the next as I aimlessly scrolled through my phone in bed. At some point, boredom led me to the living room, where I flipped through endless TV channels, barely paying attention to anything playing. Frustration bubbled inside me as I stared at my unanswered messages. I had tried texting Bash, hoping he’d come around again, but the silence on his end made it clear—he was either busy or just not interested. Either way, the boredom was unbearable.

“Tell me, because I’m very confused. I’d honestly love to hear what the hell you’re thinking directly from you, instead of second-hand through my wife.” “Do you really? Do you want to know all about my life, and how I’m bored out of my mind at work? How the thought of coming up with the next tagline for some p**n star’s latex vagina makes me want to scream? I will forever be grateful for Maisie for hooking me up with this job, but I’m seriously over the sex business and all its so-called glory. I just want a regular life.” “Running a one-percenter club in the heart of Portland,” he ground out.

I drum my nails on the desk again. The steady click clack keeps me from going insane, or maybe it ushers me along. Either way analyzing marketing reports has to be one of the most boring jobs on the planet. Why hasn't someone invented a computer to do this for humans yet?