For The Love Of Soil Mga Nobela at Kwento

"I'm sorry, Shelly. I won't waste another decade of your life." The edge of his shirt fluttered through my fingers as he fell. Screams sounded from below. In the end, Xavier still jumped off the building. The day he was buried, the sunlight was harsh and glaring. I suddenly remembered something I'd heard from someone. "Only when you replace rotten soil can fresh flowers bloom again."

“You’re a freaking genius!” Sera blushed. “You’re being dramatic.” Carlos shook his head. “I swear I’m not! You truly are a genius! Do you know how long we’ve been trying to create a cure for this soil to make it even slightly better? 12 years! Actually We’ve been working on it for much longer than that but we only moved here after the ….passing of your parents. But in 12years we were never able to even make the soil retain enough water for a seed to germinate!

"God, Mitchell, you do things to me. I've seen you almost die twice, and both Times you were helping save the lives of others. You have to be more careful. I don't know what I'd do if I Lost you." "Hailey suggested while you're taking care of me, I should tell you how much I love you, Christine. The problem is that I can't tell you how much I love you because I have no words for that much love. You mean everything to me. I love you as much as a person can love another, and maybe a little more."

There will always be more chances later. "Let's go shall we? It's the perfect time to workout without disturbance so let's not be any more late." Iris said ushering the two out of the room after they took their necessary items with them. "What do you mean by perfect time to workout without disturbance Iris?" Elizabeth asked having caught that little detail, making the older woman sigh. "There is a senior who likes bothering the freshmen." Iris tried to be polite but Anya clicked her tongue in utter displeasure and looked at Iris. "No need to be polite Iris."

His fingers clutched. "Love is not renewable, Robert. You can't rebuild from blueprints. You can't dig it out of the ground or trade it on an exchange. You can't get a board of directors to vote it back into existence once it's gone. It is the one, true non-renewable resource. And we… we have a surplus."

The garden was love. The light was love. The love was

I whisper. I glance at the clock and jump to my feet. “Oh no! I’m going to be late. Love you!” I grab my bag and dart out the door. Sliding into my Tesla Model S—a birthday gift from Dad last year—I start the engine and play Gracie Abrams' “Mess It Up” on full volume. Her music has a way of pulling at emotions, the same way my mom’s voice used to. Pulling into Rockwell Academy, I park and take a deep breath. “Okay, Lara. It’s senior year. Juilliard is just around the corner. Let’s do this.”

"The soil remembers the cold. It doesn't want to grow 'Billionaire' fruit." Julian sat back on his heels, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at the vast, rust-colored horizon beyond the glass. "The soil is like a hostile takeover, Clara. It resists until you show it that you’re willing to stay for the long haul. It doesn't want an 'Owner.' It wants a Caregiver."