Long Pages Novels & Stories

For weeks I had been yearning to unlock its secrets, to delve deep into its pages and uncover the truths that lay hidden within. Now, with the pages flickering in the wind and the scent of ancient parchment filling the air, I felt a sudden surge of excitement as I began to read. But as I turned to the next page, something caught my eye: page 111, where thin lines of ink had been scrawled horizontally across the paper. What could it mean? I leaned closer, my eyes straining to make sense of the tiny text.

“I don’t happen to have a safe, Tony.” I blinked as he turned and handed the pages to me. “Here. Take a look for yourself.” He didn’t make a grab for the potion as I took the pages. My gut turning. I wanted to be skeptical, but the pages looked… official. The first was a registration page very much like a college’s. I didn’t recognize the codes or the class titled, but the information all made sense. The page beneath it was a prescription page. I frowned. “Yellow Ridge Hospital.” I looked at him. “How… long have you been going there?”

If she were to stop to analyze it again, she would spend a whole day staring at the page, not reading or absorbing anything. But she couldn't help it much. The second page was equal to the first z the third as well. The fourth, the fifth to the sixth, even the twenty-seventh page was the same as the first, it frustrated her. She had passed through the corridors, endured all that litany of her mother and sisters, had to remain as calm as possible in the face of that scenario in which she did not have many memories of what would happen before the meeting with Lord Kim. All this following the idea of "the book will tell you the story", so that in the end the pages are white.

McKay walked in from outside, holding a thick stack of A4 papers, almost like a thick book filled with words. "Miss Lalisa, this is the contract's content, from page 6 to page 278." McKay handed Lalisa a thick stack of papers. "From page 6 to page 278?" Lalisa held such a thick stack of papers as if she was holding a heavy rock. What could this mean? Louis sat on the bed, seeing her pale complexion without a trace of blood; his mood improved greatly. He lazily leaned back and slowly said, "Lalisa, you've read the contract so carefully. Did you notice that there are many missing pages?"

The book had an entire thirty-page chapter on soul resurrection but not soul fetching. Slightly annoyed, Levy started to look through the books again and this time much more carefully as she stared at each page until she was sure that she wasn’t missing anything finally she found what exactly was wrong at the end of the third book. “ Someone tore pages from this book,” murmured Levy as she ran her fingers through the rough yet very clean edge of the torn page. Whoever tore the pages of the book, did it very carefully… in fact, they did it so cleanly that Levy would’ve never found what was wrong with the book unless she carefully skimmed through each page.

‘What does it want to show me now this time? I don’t know what I should see now with these things, but I am looking forward to it. On the screens, I saw the scenes that happened over the course of around six months. Time sure flies quickly. Many things happened already and here I am, still stuck in the first page of the novel. On one of the screens, I saw the last scene I was in. Seeing it now with my own eyes, I seemed to have been surrounded by something black. Is that a smoke?

Adea asked. Lyda said nothing, but reached into her pocket and took out the black-smeared pages, laying them out on the rock between them. Adea scanned them in confusion. She could see the writing on them as if somebody had taken a tool and etched through the substance that covered the pages, but it was too difficult to make it out. Lyda played around with the parchments as though she was arranging them in some form of priority, staring at each page intently.

Thirty suns. ​My notebook was gone, burned to ash by Lillian’s lighter three weeks ago. “Look what I found.” Lillian had said three weeks ago, her voice a cruel, melodic lilt. She began to tear a page out, the sound of the paper ripping feeling like a blade across my skin. “It’s full of such... pathetic longing. Did you really think a prince would keep a stuttering little thing like you?” ​She dropped the torn page into the puddle of stagnant water outside my bars.

"Write about what has changed since September. Whatever length it takes." Lennon looked at him. "You want me to write it." "Yes." "Because you want to read it." "Yes." He looked up. "Because I want to read it. And because I think you need to say it.” He paused. "The other pages were for me. This one is for you first." Lennon looked at the desk. He thought about forty-six pages in a drawer. "What if it is long," he said. "Then it is long." "What if it is very long."

Smaller ones, thin like an old bible, yellowed with page break apart. Once there pages were successfully separated, I carefully put the knife down, not wanting to slice any pages or myself. The pages smelt like mould and looked ancient, they looked like they would be grimy to the touch but they felt like silk. The amount of small little pages were like a book of their own, how could this be hidden away for so long and no one notice it?