John Doe Unordinary Novels & Stories

Two weeks had passed quickly and there was no sign of the Duke. London was bustling and it seemed to Sara as if the days had flown by in a blur of activity and excitement. She was waiting for Steve to come but he never came. Sara had hope, he was the only person that could save her from her impending doom. Ever since her uncle showed her to society, business was going well. Families brought gifts and wanted to be in his good books, so one of their sons could have Sara for a wife.

Something unfamiliar, uncomfortable, yet compelling. I told the driver to turn around. When we stopped, I instructed my assistant to hand her an envelope. $10,000. I was no philanthropist, no generous benefactor looking to make a mark on the world. But I could not turn away. Something about her, the way she held that child, the exhaustion and quiet dignity in her soaked frame… it tugged at a part of me I had spent years burying.

I'm trying to convince myself to be cautious and not take Liam's drunk words seriously, but I can't help but hold onto hope that his feelings might be genuine. And because I woke up early, I decided to go for a jog. I suddenly missed sweating in the morning. I wore a simple hooded jacket, black leggings, and a pair of sneakers. I also brought my cellphone and wireless earphones so I could listen to music while jogging. As I jogged around the area, I was mesmerized by the sights around me. There were large houses and towering trees, especially pine trees, which signaled that I was in a cool place. The sun's rays hit my face, but I felt the chill of the air more. There were also others jogging

"This isn't the place for your little fits." Beside him, the Consigliere Dario Zanon leaned lazily against the back of his chair, revealing the double-gun skull tattoo on his arm. "What's the matter, Camilla?" he asked calmly. "Is there something you're unhappy about? "Or do you think that after five years of hard work for the family, you still haven't received a share of the family trust fund, and that's why you're making a scene here? Have you ever stopped to consider your own worth?"

You are brilliant. At twenty one, I had been a junior at NYU, I was broke, nervous and desperate for something to go right. The internship had been a miracle to me. Paid, prestigious, with a line on my resume that paved the way for me. The kind of thing that could change everything. And it did. Then, I never thought twice about the anonymous donor. I just signed the papers, whispered a thank you to no one, and cried quietly in a library bathroom. But now the donor had a name. A face.

Since it's a mistake to live a life beyond ordinary, then in my next life, I would like to live an Ordinary Life' After coming to this decision, she give out her answer. "Please make my life ordinary," she said. "Alright," replied the man. He was about to write again when something crashed the room they were in and a man entered. This man was the man who was accompanying his master above the skies of L.A. "Creos! How dare you stole our harvest?!" The man's booming voice shooked her to near extinction. The man called Creos get up from the floor and stopped writing.

I didn't know what to do; borrowing money was not even in my mind because how would I be able to pay it back? I let out a breath in frustration and opened my word puzzle book. Searching for words in any puzzle book always helps me. It is weird, yes, but whenever I was frustrated, angry, sad, or something related to any of these mentioned, solving puzzles did it for me. I searched for the word 'Discombobulated' in the letters arranged randomly. I squinted my eyes, hoping that it would expose the word quickly but that wasn't working. I put the pencil in my mouth, staring hard at the book. It was getting so difficult so, I skipped to the next word, 'Onomasiological'

You have a big day tomorrow—checking out the apartment and surviving another day with your mysterious little charge. ---------------------------

"How about some breakfast, Nysaa? It's important to keep your strength up." Nysaa, still somewhat disoriented and groggy from her experience, didn't even notice the journal or Dr. Ruiz's curious discoveries. She simply nodded in agreement, silently grateful for her therapist's support, and they continued to navigate the challenging journey of Nysaa's recovery together.