It's Been 84 Years Novels & Stories

Cathy asked as she munched on the cake. "Forty years!" "Whoa!" Craig yelled in surprise, Cathy pushed her mouth to his ears. "Their marriage is even older than you." "That is not true," Craig said, Cathy, placed her hand on her waist. "Yes, you are twenty-nine right, so it's older than you." "Stop it!" Craig tries to stop her. "Come on are you not a baby, Craig is a baby, baby, even the marriage anniversary is older than you." "Cathy stop!"

AIDAN “Eight years ago was a long time, man,” Jace said from the other end of the phone as I buried my head in my desk, going through the contracts that needed my review and signatures. “Hell, this was more than eight years. It’s close to nine, if not over..” “So what’s your point?” I asked gruffly.

Ignoring him, Noni clapped her hands again and said, "I'm so excited I could burst. It's been five hundred years since the last one was recorded in these parts." Jazz leaned into Juke, their shoulders touching. "What's got Noni all worked up?" "I have no idea." Juke looked as puzzled as the rest, his confusion bleeding through their bond. "Five hundred years? Mother, you're insane. Please tell us what you're talking about." Dale shifted uncomfortably as Juke's grandmother pawed at his cheeks, pulling and stretching with every word. Her touch was gentle but invasive, making his skin tingle. "Don't be an idiot, Jared, smell him. Then tell me again how insane I am." Her words carried a challeng

The August heat at St. Jude's Cemetery was suffocating. The air shimmered over the rows of granite headstones, thick with the smell of scorched grass and wilting memorial lilies. Aria stood before the polished black slab, her fingers trembling as she traced the engraved letters. Eleanor Hale 1970 – 2011 Fifteen years. Five thousand, four hundred and seventy-eight days since the world had turned gray and stayed that way.

"Where have you been all these years? Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" Howard Quinn yelled at me, stopping me in my path. His eyes gleamed maniacally as I looked worriedly at my son, Charlie Jerome, clearing the trash nearby. Howard's friends stood in front of me, glowering at me angrily. "You heartless woman! How could you be so cruel?" "Do you know that Howard had stayed single all these years because of you?" I ran away eight years ago when I was pregnant. Howard had never forgotten about me, constantly trying to find me. His friends were angry on his behalf.

Jamie agreed, nodding. “When was that?” I asked. I had an idea of how old he was, but I didn’t really know how long ago we were talking about. Jamie replied, “Well, I was born in 1868, so… a long time ago.” “Wow.” Even though I’d seen pictures of him from the turn of the last century, I couldn’t imagine almost being a witness to the Civil War. “I can’t really wrap my mind around that,” I admitted, shaking my head. “I mean, I know you’re even older, Aaron, but still….” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I felt really silly again, all of a sudden. I hadn’t meant it as an insult. Apparently, these old people didn’t like to be reminded of their age. “Anyway,” I dragged it out like it had six As,

There was a date written down on it and the date shows it has been 8 years ago. What the hell!

The table loud and specific and entirely ours. Fifty-eight years old. Alive. Completely, gratefully, fully alive.

she responded. Kira and I shared another horrified expression, “And what year did you get kidnapped?” I asked her, “um” she started before searching her head. “20… 20..oh yeah! 2016!” she laughed, “I remember because my dog was turning 8 that year I was preparing a nice…” She paused, “wait what year is it?” she asked. “2024” I replied. She gasped in shock and sank to the ground, “you mean it's been 8 years” she asked in a very low tone, I bent to where she was and helped her up.

“You’re one year older than me almost to the date!” Silvia looked up from her tablet, frowning. “What?” Jay showed her something on his phone, flashing one of his bright, charming smiles. “You were born on December 26, 1984, Orwell girl. And I was on December 16, 1985. You’re only 355 days older. Who knew!” She squinted. 1985? “Wait. How old are you?” Jay chuckled. He hadn’t realized she was among the people that thought him way younger than he actually was.