Cuốn Theo Chiều Gió Novels & Stories

The day after our wedding, Deanna Somerhalder secured her seatbelt and offhandedly told the car’s GPS, “Let’s go home.” The screen lit up, and the GPS said, “Now navigating to Harvey Bishop’s home.” My back stiffened. From the corner of my eye, I saw Harvey look up from the backseat. Deanna started driving. She sounded unbothered as she said, “The GPS is just using the most frequently used saved location. It’s just numbers. Anyway, this way we can drop Harvey home first.” Harvey said calmly from the backseat, “Don’t overthink this, Andrew. The GPS might just be used to this route because Deanna frequently picks me up.” I did not respond. Instead, I reached out to check the GPS history.

After I was reborn, I burned every photo I had with Natalie Landers and tore up the three years' worth of love letters Kristen Rhodes had written me. In my last life, I'd been nothing but a joke caught between those two women. Natalie swore she loved me, but the moment I gave up my study-abroad spot for her, she left the country with Freddy Palmer. Before she left, she wrote me a letter, saying, "He needs me more than you do." I spent three months falling apart. Kristen brought me dinner every night and told me, "I've waited eight years for you." Once we were together, she came home on time every evening and never so much as looked at another man. I thought I'd finally bet on the right

*** Somewhere behind the barrier *** The air feels thick with humidity tonight, the sky is filled with dark heavy clouds that seem to stretch endlessly across the horizon, creating a sense of anticipation I can’t quite place. As the night settles in and the full moon rises to its peak, the wind begins to pick up, rustling through leaves and branches creating a haunting melody. The temperature starts to drop slightly but the air remains heavy with warmth. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, causing the leaves to dance and twirl, as if in a frenzy.

Ten seconds before the bomb detonated, I decisively clipped the blue wire, saving hundreds of lives inside the high-rise building. At the celebration dinner, Robert Vance—our bomb squad captain—handed the top honor to the new rookie, Vivian Reed. “Let the new girl have it. You don’t want people to say I favor you, do you?” Throughout our five years of secret dating, he had used this same excuse repeatedly to shut me up before I could even complain. Every life-threatening mission fell entirely on my shoulders. Yet every honor and public commendation was without fail handed to someone else. Clutching my bleeding side, I retreated to a corner. From afar, I watched Vivian accept the vibrant bouq

The Hollowing Wind They heard it before they saw it. The wind didn’t howl. It whispered. A low, circular murmur—like someone breathing into their ear from miles away. Every gust carried not cold, but memory. Fragments of voices. Laughter turned to screaming. Screams turned to silence. Maya tightened the cloak around her shoulders. The dagger hung heavy at her hip now, its metal slick with oil and blood. The Testament pulsed like a wound in her satchel.

Tsk, she's so full of herself. "As I said, be careful, you might swallow all your words. Don't say that I didn't warn you. Good luck" I smiled and stood straight. "Start!" I stared at the different parts of the gun at the table. I even heard the crowds complain as to why I am still not making any move. I tilted my head as I smirked. Let's count then... 3.. I feel the gust of wind. The wind is blowing from east to west. 2 .. I opened my eyes still feeling the wind. It changes, from east-to-west to south to north. I smiled, perfect!

Lilith sat cross-legged on her bed, engrossed in the pages of a captivating book. Her face was buried within its depths as she lost herself in the world of words. The room was quiet, save for the rustling of pages and the occasional sound of her breath. Suddenly, a gust of wind whistled through the room, causing the curtains to billow and dance. Lith looked up, her eyes widening in surprise, as the window that had always been locked swung open with a creak. The wind seemed to beckon her, inviting her to embrace the unknown that lay beyond.

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> Thursday arrived with wind. Not the gentle suggestion of movement that had threaded through the past week but real wind — the kind that came off the ridge with intention, bending the pine tops and moving through the pack lands with a low continuous sound like something breathing. She woke to it at five-thirty and lay still for a moment listening, feeling it move through the territory the way she could now feel everything move through the territory: as information.

It was made for things older than them. Inferno is quiet again. Not brooding, just listening intently. The wind here does not blow, it hisses. It makes me feel like it carries secrets in its wake. Not only secrets, but it also seems to carry heat that claws at my back and salt that sticks to my skin. And still, I walk deeper into it. Toward the Lunacrown Thistle.

Outside, the wind rattles the trees, shaking loose the first of the autumn leaves. Finally, Josh exhales and steps back. “Forget that for now, Ari,” he says, voice softer now. “It’s too early in the season for this.” I nod, holding my phone tight against my chest. As he leaves, closing the door behind him, saying nothing and everything all at once. I let the wind carry the weight of everything—the missing summers, the distance, the cracks forming between us, the unspoken promises. Autumn has begun, and everything feels like it’s falling. But maybe… just maybe… Some roots, some seasons, are strong enough to survive it.