Ereader Take Notes Novels & Stories

He reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook, which was not something she had expected, and opened it to a page that had notes on it, actual notes, organized and specific, and slid it across the table toward her. She looked at the page. Then she looked at him. "You made notes," she said. "I told you," he said. "I pay attention." She pulled the notebook toward her and read through what he had written, and it was good, clear-eyed and practical, the kind of thinking that came from someone who had been watching a situation carefully from outside it and had used that distance well. "This is good," she said. "I know," he said simply.

"Oh, it's you. Set up the camera on the desk, adjust the angle, and get back to work." She gave a slight nod and walked in. "Welcome back, Scarlett." The sun was shining outside the window. The ER's ambulance rushed out, speeding off to pick up another patient.

I unfolded the second note that came with it, because apparently there was a second note, and read it with the specific patience of someone who already knew this was not going to improve the situation. ‘Leash up and wag your tail for me, doggy.’ The locker bay was very quiet. Eric, somewhere behind me, let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and an attempt to muffle one… which told me without turning around that he had read the note over my shoulder, or enough of it to understand what was in the box. I lowered the leash slowly. My hand had folded itself into a fist somewhere between reading the note and processing its contents, and I became aware of it the way you became aware of

ELIJAH'S POV: I read everything. Twice in some places, three times in a few. I went through each document in order and when something required more context I went back and checked it against earlier pages. Mirada had photographed everything clearly and the image quality was good enough to read even the smaller handwritten notes, which I was grateful for because some of those documents were old enough that the originals probably would not survive much more handling before something important became unreadable.

Brown. He doesn’t take notes; he has never taped our sessions. I’ve been adamant about this. I don’t want a record of my thoughts anywhere. He’s okay with that, said we’d do whatever made me comfortable. But I’ve always wondered if he scribbles down his thoughts right after I leave. He always seems to have perfect recall of the things we’ve discussed.

His eyes were now flickering between my face and the paper in my grasp. I took another breath, deeper and longer this time, easing off a bit of the heavy load of anxiety the note had dumped on me. The paper edges under my touch seemed to me as if they were laced with some sort of ominous power. I bored into Eric's eyes and with my unsure hand, I passed the note to him. He quickly took it from me and his eyes continued examining my face for a while before he turned his attention to the piece of paper.

Elena asked. “Yes, Ma’am. I read them thoroughly last night,” Thalia replied quickly. “Good. But those notes are only an outline. In the field, my pace can be faster. Don’t be surprised,” Elena continued, her tone firm. Thalia gave a polite smile. “I’m ready to keep up.” Nathan set his tablet down on the table. “If anything’s unclear, ask right away. Don’t stay silent and guess.” “Yes, Sir,” Thalia replied, sneaking a brief glance at him before lowering her gaze again.

It would help me remember certain details and aspects that I needed to know. “Tate, this is Brook. I was wondering if I could get a copy of the contract.” Instead of waiting for him to respond, I went back out to Eric and took notes on a pad of paper he had dug out while he had waited for me to return. By the time he finished showing me how to operate it, I now had a basic concept of how to use it.

You are just a person on a floor with some papers and something large to think about. I read the reports for three hours. I read them the way I read things that matter: slowly, twice, marking the passages that required follow-up in pencil and noting in the margin what each piece connected to. By midnight I had six pages of notes and a very clear picture of the structure of what had been done to me. At midnight I put them down.

Not as a formal addition to a case file. As a margin note. In the first year. In the first case file. Where the first reader of the archive will find it. She looked at what she had written. She wrote: The note will say: this is what it is all for. Name it. Before you read further, name what you think this is all for. Then read. Then come back and see if your name was right. She looked at it. She thought: that is a good margin note. She thought: that is the kind of margin note that will be found by the right reader.