Imperfect Books Novels & Stories

Ruthy said just as we finished eating. “Say, Ruthy, can you come to my room later? I like to discuss something with you,” I said. She didn’t seem clueless or nervous, simply because it was a normal thing for us. She set down her napkin and nodded as we both stood. “Sure. I’ll be over after a shower,” she said. Honestly, I just wanted to confirm it once and for all. Who does she really like? Who is she willing to marry? Who is out of the picture? I am asking her all of my questions tonight. I spent my time at the library, reading novels and secretly arranging some of the books. It’s actually satisfying to arrange them in the shelves by color. The books were already in a cart, so I easily plac

She carried a pile of textbooks with her. Thump ... thump .... Her heartbeat made Markonah nervous and awkward. Tukijo tilted his head as he watched Markonah put a pile of textbooks on her desk. "Hey! Aren't we supposed to share it?" said Tukijo. Markonah buried her face into her hands. "Oh my! What was I thinking, that it made me throb like this?" mumbled Markonah. After that they distributed books together, then they sat in their respective places.

Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ For everything in this journey of life we are on, there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger; for the wing of destiny there is fear; for the wing of pain there is healing; for the wing of hurt there is forgiveness; for the wing of pride there is humility; for the wing of giving there is taking; for the wing of tears there is joy; for the wing of rejection there is acceptance; for the wing of judgment there is grace; for the wing of honor there is shame; for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping. We can only fly with two wings and two wings can only stay in the air if there is a balance. Two beautiful wings is perfection. There is a

I don't like it because I can't stop reminiscing about the past, and our late movie nights are part of those memories I want to forget. We got inside the mall in a hurry, and I couldn't deny I loved the feeling when we got inside the sports shop. Zach walked into the next aisle while I tried calming my nerves. I could feel the excitement, and I smiled when I gazed at the football equipment before me, even if I felt a pang in my chest as I realized how much I missed playing the game. I acknowledged that I had given up my dream, and I couldn't stop feeling stupid as I realized this was the second time I had given up something important in my life.

It's the ball in my neck, and I want nothing more than it to shrink and leave me alone. I am Emma Rhodes, the model at Model Perfect. Models must be perfect and show off a glamorous life that doesn't really exist. In an imperfect world, that strives for the perfect. The world tells us who we are and what we know. And what I know is this lump, is my doom. It could lift me up or tear me down depending on my test results. I sit in a small chair at the back of the doctor's office. The ticking of the clock is agony, and every strike of the clock makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The door opens and a nurse calls my name.

I raged, my anger finally exploding. "Found it!" She exclaimed as she lifted it up. It was her favourite novel she was currently reading, "Ghosts Book", that she found in one of the drawers. She started reading the series a few days ago, and ever since then, she has never gone anywhere without the book. It was something about supernatural creatures or something, I couldn't care less. "You need to be more advanced and tougher with your training, and you really have to watch your tone with me, young lady," she warned as she walked past me and went outside to meet my younger brother,r who was outside with Dad.

It was silent now, aside from my footsteps, but I still could imagine just how magical it felt when the piano at the center of the room was being played. I kept searching the library; none of the titles stood out to me so I gave up and grabbed the book that was sitting in a cozy-looking chair. I plopped myself down and flipped through the first few pages. My eyebrows furrowed as I closed the book and reread the title. "The Origin of Shifters?" I murmured. This book should be thousands of pages long with obnoxiously dense material, but the one in my hands was maybe a hundred pages and full of hand-drawn pictures.

Traveling everywhere. Instead of snapping back to reality, Emily wanted to linger and savor this incredibly beautiful sight. At the very least, she could visualize the perfect, handsome, and sexy male characters from the romance novels she often read. It was exactly the same – an arranged marriage without love, beginning with the man's cold and aloof demeanor but eventually leading to him becoming smitten with the female lead. Emily's smile unraveled as she imagined what it would be like if Calvin became infatuated with her. But a minute later, Emily shook her head quickly, dismissing her thoughts that were still influenced by the fictional romance novel plot. All of that was purely fictiona

The bloodlust vanished from the air like it never existed. “Well, at least I am perfect at being flawed…” Ezra sipped in the coffee, making loud slurping noises which was clearly annoying Raven even more. “I am flawlessly imperfect.” He continued in a dreamy tone, like he was reciting the hymn of the universe. “Imperfectum est perfectio. Perfectio est illusionis. Imperfection is perfection and perfection is illusion. So, you are an illusion, Raven.” He pointed his finger at Raven. Ouch. That must have hurt, and it clearly did. I gaped at Raven.

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie