Forty Thousand Novels & Stories

"Someone out there needed one." "Yes," I say. "And someone will need forty." "And the letter will still be there at forty," she says. "Yes," I say.

Nicholas said. The eyes of Abby's family, Andy, and Lilian widened. "Four billion?" they shouted in unison. Nathalie's eyes widened as well.

I fished it out, glancing down at the screen. Credit alert. Forty. Thousand. Dollars. I stopped cold on the steps outside the building. For a second, I thought my brain was short-circuiting. I actually let out a squeal before slapping a hand over my mouth because an old man walking his dog was giving me the she’s-crazy side-eye. Forty grand. For what, exactly? I’d known this was about money, but this? I started trembling as the amount sank in. It was too much. Way too much.

My whole body is numb, and all I can do is cough and sneeze. As soon as I get to land, I lay on the cold snow in a ball on my side. I can't feel anything. Maybe I am going to die. Freeze to death. Here lies Temperance Andrews. A pathetic nothing that died with no one to care about it. I close my eyes, not caring what will happen. In movies, there is always a person telling the other not to close their eyes. But no person is telling me that, so why should I care? ******************************

He said and I blushed. "Yet can't be measured to you" I said as I can't seem to be on his level, this is my most expensive gown, it's 30,000 but it's not even enough to buy his cufflings. He raised my face and I felt the spark the moment his fingers touched my jaw.

"Thirty thousand from the gentleman in the back. Do I hear thirty-five?" Silence. "Thirty thousand, going once. Thirty thousand, going twice—" "Thirty thousand five hundred," the oldest one said. He'd stepped forward too, into the light. His eyes were on me. "Forty thousand," the dangerous one said. Everyone gasped. Forty thousand dollars for one night with me. "Gentlemen, I'm going to stop the bidding here," the auctioneer said, looking flustered. "We have four candidates still to show. Standard auction rules apply. Shall we move to the next candidate?"

I said. "Forty-one," he said. He came around the table and kissed my forehead and went and put the kettle on and the kitchen filled up with Sophia's voice and the seating charts and Noah's apple and the particular warm noise of a life that was building toward something and knew it and was not trying to rush it. Late spring. Good light. Forty-one people. Everything exactly the right size.

“Sixty two, Sixty three, Sixty four. . . Eighty seven, Eighty eight, Eighty nine, and Ninety.” I heard a man scream from inside when they counted a Ninety dollars. I mean, Ninety thousand dollars. I heard the sound of hands clasping together in a handshake, chuckles and laughter. Who wouldn’t be happy to be counting Ninety thousand dollars? Although, off the top of my head, I knew all that money was not a hundred percent acquired through legal means. Did I say a hundred? I meant one percent. And this was unarguable. Why was I so sure of this?

A hush fell over the room as everyone held their breath, waiting to see if anyone would dare challenge her. But the challenge came, almost immediately. “Forty Million, Five hundred thousand.” I raised my paddle and heads turned to look at me, including her. “Sixty Million!” “Sixty Million Five Hundred Thousand.” “Seventy Million!” “Seventy Million Five Hundred Thousand.”

I winced slightly at how cutting his voice was. “I can’t believe there will be a day you will get worked up over a measly four hundred thousand dollars.” I spat out. “And so, what? What if he spends four hundred thousand? It’s not like he killed anyone, he needs to have fun, and if it bothers you so much, I will send you the four hundred thousand.” Keegan stared at me in disbelief, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounted, but he said nothing. He grabbed the coffee cup in front of him and downed the rest of the content.