Fragments Of The Past Novels & Stories

I’ll tell the Counsel that she is barren and that should make them leave her alone. “Why do you even love me? I’m just some freak who paints stupid pictures, has temper tantrums and weird dreams. Why do you care? I have an ugly past and I that is never gonna change. I’m sure you could have any of a dozen women to choose from. Why me?” Tears were again streaming down her face. Her hands clenched at her side.

My heart ached with a yearning to understand, to bridge the gap between the forgotten fragments of my past and the present reality that threatened to unravel before me. Confusion gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, a relentless companion that whispered doubt into the recesses of my mind. Was this room truly the key to reclaiming my pack? Or was it merely a cruel illusion, a tantalizing mirage that offered false hope in the face of my desperation?

’ I say as Edmond comes to sit beside me. ‘I love you mate’ I tell him as I stare up at him, right through his eyes. ‘I love you too a billion times’ he says as he devours my mouth. My life is so full now and I would never exchange this for nothing in the world. If there is one thing I have learnt, it is that nothing really is impossible because if a broken Pieces of a heart could be fixed, then everything can be fixed once you find the right people. The end.

Crying out all of my mistakes. All the mistakes of my past.

“This is?” Realizing the familiar scene, yet put on a heavy emphasis towards the difference of each shard and broken pieces. Where a particular scene is playing at each broken one, yet peculiarly some scenes that are too blurry to see are falling fast than the others. Hitting that somewhat none existing floor and breaking it into much tinier pieces and vanishing into thin air. The ones that remain afloat and different from the latter are now facing her. Like a puzzle that she needed to solve, yet is bringing the warning that’s making her sweat with coldness and unexplainable dread that she never had before. Each piece of the glass is showing her a promise, yet somewhat a curse that are and m

I simply did not want her to be unreasonable before I went abroad. I closed the door of the room because I did not want to argue with her. After opening the windows, I kept my head low to revise the drafts. Unease gripped me again while I was working hard. I went looking for the money that I had saved. After I returned from Cliffwood, I kept my money someplace else. I became hopeful only when I saw the money. After smelling the money, I continued revising the drafts until the middle of the night. Layla knocked on my door because she had made pasta for me.

All the moments I tried to place in the back of my mind came out as a fervent reminder of the past, ones that opened like a book to show me its pages. It was a moment when I was completely paralyzed. I didn't know how to interpret what glittered as if it were the most important thing in his collection, that he had that trophy in a place that many consider significant left me in a complete transience because for a person like him, a prize for eating meat in a forgotten town in nothingness, should not be something to be proud of above all things. It didn't fit with anything on its façade.

The fragments of their story, scattered across time, now hinted at the prospect of a reunion. Unable to resist the pull, Alexander decided to venture into the heart of the city, where every corner held the whispers of their history. He navigated the familiar streets, each step resonating with the echoes of their bygone days. The city, ever-changing yet eternal, bore witness to the complex tapestry of emotions that defined their journey. As he approached their once-shared haunts, a mix of nostalgia and trepidation enveloped him. The café where they had shared countless conversations, the park where promises were made, and the streets where footsteps had echoed in unison—all stood as silent wi

She vividly remembered her mother slipping on the staircase when she was only nine years old, resulting in her sudden demise. After spending some time in bed, gathering herself to recover from her frightened state, she mustered the strength to rise and stood before her dressing table, where she was confronted once again with the sight of her bleeding nose. Overwhelmed by a mix of fear and confusion, she swiftly reached for a tissue paper and gently wiped away the crimson streaks.

The hope of another college accepting me felt like a mirage shimmering on a distant horizon. My footsteps echoed hollowly on the pavement as I set out. There were no signs promising 'Help Wanted' in the windows I passed, each one reflecting back a girl with uncertain eyes. I smoothed my hair down, feeling the scrutiny of my own gaze. How does one even begin to piece together a life that's been so abruptly disassembled?