I Thought My Time Was Up Novel Novels & Stories

I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to stay alert. I forced a calm smile and replied, "I'm afraid that your wish won't come true." Then, I turned to leave. I wondered if Theodore would regret acting this way if he knew that this was the last birthday I would ever celebrate with him. I could not remember how I got home. All I remembered was the chaotic noise around me. When I next regained consciousness, I was already in my house. In my confused state, I wanted to check the time. After searching every corner of the house, I finally found my phone in the refrigerator.

In three years, he had never once cooked for me. So that was what love looked like. I wiped my tears, hung up, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out the door. I didn’t look back—not at the apartment filled with happy memories that I had clung to for far too long. At the airport, just before boarding, I got a message from Lucien. “Mia, work ran late. I’m sorry. I can’t make it home for dinner. I’ll bring home your favorite mango mousse cake, okay?”

Maybe osmosis will take place. Once I woke up, I noticed that some people had already started leaving the library. I looked out the window and saw that the weather was already dark. I panicked and began walking out of the library but I was some what relived when I saw the bodyguards standing at a corner. I walked back to my corner and parked my books. Looking at the time it was 5pm. I had successful wasted 3 hrs. of my Time doing nothing in the library. “What is going on with me?” I asked myself. I knew the answers but I just didn’t want to address it yet. The moment I came out of the library, one of the bodyguards cleared his throat.

I'm not going to lose both of you. I think about the note I left on a pillow in Cape Town. I need time. I think, in the particular altered consciousness of fever and exhaustion and the strange new weight of an eight-week secret I didn't know I was keeping: I think time just found me instead. The monitor beeps, steady and insistent. I close my eyes. I breathe.

It was the news report from the year I won the award, and the edges were already frayed from wear and tear. A gust of wind swept past, and the dandelions disintegrated and began to drift toward the Camford River, like a late snowfall. I held the crystal dome and walked back to my office. Behind me, I heard the sound of David giggling. I did not look back, but I knew that there was a figure standing at a safe distance and watching me. Some stories did not have to have a happy ending. Like the ripples on the Karnell River, there were some things that could never come together again.

Execution formation. Time had just run out.

I woke up with a start, as my alarm went off. I sat there looking disoriented and confused. I grabbed my book and flipped to the page I was reading last night, I quickly slammed the book shut when I got to the part where the protagonist died. I always hated such an ending, but still, that doesn’t make me hate the book. I got ready in forty minutes, of which twenty minutes is to complete all my essential works and the rest is spent rummaging around my impossibly chaotic room for the things I needed. I have to clean it, I mentally add this to the list of thousand other things that I wish to do today that ought to have been done a week ago. Procrastination could be my middle name. I headed down

However, she reminded herself that most businessmen, whatever the rank, had always demanding schedules, and as a college student conducting interviews, she was likely not a high priority for many professionals. Florence looked up at the clock, her heart sinking as she realized it was past four o’clock in the afternoon. Feeling defeated with what happened, she pulled off her earphones, placed it along with her mini iPod shuffle in her bag, and gathered her belongings from her lap, her eyes welling up with tears. She had wasted her time here, and the frustration and disappointment were overwhelming inside her.

I could undoubtedly make a big difference if I were to produce this in large quantities. Finally, I put the book down. I wasn't here to bring about change. I just want to grow stronger while managing my tiny city and living my life to the utmost. I was no hero. But I'm not going to be a demon either. When the time comes, I'll choose a side. "Time's up," a voice said. "The tower is ready to be sealed up and the wizards have left for home." When I looked up, there was the man standing guard at the door. I realized it was already dark as I peered out the window. When I was immersed in the novel, time flew by.

She sat at the long table and read with her chin on her hand. He thought about the girl finishing the book and taking another. He thought about the threshold crossed — the long waiting and the unopened book and the six weeks and the page finally turned. He thought about the room that had held her through the not-yet, the room that had not required her to be ready, and the Thursday she was ready and the room was still there. He thought: the honest room outlasts the hesitation. He wrote in the library notes: The girl of eleven has taken a second book. The room held her through six weeks of not-yet. The threshold crossed in its own time.