Finish What You Start Novels & Stories

The Account Finished She finished the personal record on the last Tuesday of summer, in the specific way that things finish when they have found their right ending — not with relief that it was over but with the quiet satisfaction of something completed to the level of its own intention. The final section was short. She had been building toward it for months without knowing exactly what it would say, and when she finally wrote it, it came quickly, the way the last piece of something very complex sometimes arrives simply because everything else is already in place.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish. Now is the best time to give up whatever silly idea you might be having in your mind!” “That boy! He can’t save you from me!” She whispered. My lips stretched into a small smile, I looked down at her hands in mine, grabbed her hands and moved it away forcefully. “I’ve not even started anything,” I muttered and slowly looked up at her. A smug smile on my face, tilting my head to the side. “It’s too early to be scared don’t you think?!”

“And if you don’t deal with Adrian soon, this all falls apart.” Silence. Tasha finally said, “Then we finish what we started. One thread at a time.”

But fully aware. He lets the silence stretch just long enough. Then finishes— “Some men destroy what they inherit…” Another pause. Measured. Deliberate. “…others rebuild it.”

A massive fortress was taking shape. Michael appearing at my side. “Bringing a piece of home, home?” Smiling, “yes. I’m a little homesick.” “What of security?” “I already thought of that. I made it so that our essence is built into our new home.” “So how will your new guardians gain access?” “Very easily I’ll add them as they come.” I smiled and leaned my head against his arm. Always perfectly content with Micheal. My calm and peace.

When the time came for my acceptance speech, I stood on the stage with the reward in my hand and looked out at the audience. So many young, bright, hopeful faces filled the hall. "Once, I believed marriage was a safe harbor. Because of someone who did not deserve it, I nearly lost myself and my life." I paused. "But later I realized something important. No one should live as someone else's accessory. The pursuit of one's own value is the only thing that lasts. "This award belongs to me, to my team, and to everyone who refuses to surrender when life turns against them. "No matter what you face, remember this. You always have the strength to start over."

“Finish what you started.” “Oh please,” I roll my eyes, trying to turn my head away—‘trying’ being the word in bold and capital letters. “You know very well what I was going to say.” “Sure. But I would also like to hear it from your mouth. That way, it would sound real.” “Well, I changed my mind. I have nothing to say to you. Now, get off me!” “Are you sure?” he mumbles, moving his face closer than necessary. “Because last night you had quite the things to say. For example, and only from the top of my head, ‘Oh God, I—’”

A thread that would complete the circle, that would bring everything back to where it began. "The final thread is you," the First Weaver said. "You must weave yourself into the fabric of existence. You must become part of the circle. You must complete what I started." "How do I do that?" "You must let go. You must release everything you have become. You must become the thread that completes the circle." I emerged from the vision, my heart pounding. The First Weaver was gone. But its words lingered in my mind. You must become the thread that completes the circle.

“Because that’s the point.” Silence. Because now— I understand. Not fully. But enough. “They’re restarting it.” “Yes.” “With her.” “Yes.” My grip tightens on the weapon. “Then I stop it.” “You can try.” I look at him. Hard. “You sound like you don’t think I will.” “I sound like I know what happens if you fail.” “Then tell me.” A pause. Then— “They don’t kill her.” That stops me. “What?” “They don’t kill her,” he repeats. “They finish what they started.”

NOAH “Find a way to make it up to the man.” Nancy’s words float at the back of my mind once again, two days after the whole weekend debacle. “Apologize again, buy the guy lunch, maybe even cook dinner for him…” That proved to be easier said than done by the end of the second day.