Forging Unscramble Novels & Stories

It will be so nice to get inside. “Foster!” A familiar spindly boy all legs with dark hair climbs from the passenger side, as inappropriately dressed for the weather as ever. Those signature ripped jeans look like he might as well be wearing shorts, and the jacket I’m sure was measured for women looks a little too thin and small to offer much warmth. Somehow, I would imagine he’d be a bit more excited to head in than we are.

ALERT: Interrogation scheduled - 10:00 AM Isaac. Right. I'd almost forgotten about my uncle rotting in the basement. "Fuck," I muttered. Cat's expression shifted from desire to frustration. "You have to go." "I don't want to go." "I know." She stepped back, and I immediately missed the warmth of her body against mine. "But you have to." I helped her finish getting dressed—carefully fastening the bra I'd been using as an excuse to touch her, helping her into one of my t-shirts because it was easier than trying to maneuver her own clothes over the cast.

Something unbreakable. Something ready to rise.

I stared at the scarf and couldn't help but laugh coldly. Whenever our top-tier tailors crafted a custom cloak, they always included a silk scarf to wrap the garment. I had seen this very scarf before. It had been tucked beneath the Silver Moon cloak in my storage cabinet. Now, this freebie was being presented to me as a heartfelt gift. How ironic. I took the scarf, running my fingers over the coarse fabric. Then, I tossed it into the nearby fireplace without hesitation. The flames devoured it instantly, turning it into ashes that drifted into the air.

Always sniffing my neck, always picking out new colognes, always complaining when one of his ran out. A saleswoman approached me. “Looking for something in particular?” “Yes,” I said. “Something bold, warm… masculine.” She smiled knowingly and led me to a shelf. When she picked up a black-and-gold bottle, I knew instantly. “Tom Ford Noir Extreme,” she said. “One of our best sellers.” I sprayed it on a test strip, lifted it to my nose, and smiled. “This is him,” I said softly. The saleswoman laughed. “Then it is the one.”

Fred read the single word on it: FORGE.

The mother checked the progress of her daughter who was unpacking things in the room. Some boxes are open, and chaos in the room can be seen in various directions. "No mom." The girl looked around to confirm one by one the contents of the box that had been scrambled by herself. "I guess..." She faltered at the end, unsure if her memory might be wrong.