Long Pages Novels & Stories

"Say that again." "An appointment book is dated on every page. The pages either side of a gap still carry their dates, and the gap between them is a number, and a number is a fact." I turned the book round and put my finger on the last surviving entry before the cut, and then on the first surviving entry after it. "Whoever cut those pages could remove what was written. They could not remove the size of the hole." He looked. I watched him do the arithmetic and I watched his face change while he did it.

Facts which would stand forever despite the efforts of those that would try and destroy them. "How much is left?" The question came across as rather peculiar. There was always something left, you see. Another file. Another lead. Another missing piece. Cassian quickly glanced at the page in front of him. "Three pages." I blinked. "Three?" A small nod. "Three." That was all. Three pages. After everything. There was a silence as the minutes passed. I glanced out the window of the archive. The sun was shining in the summer and the sun's rays were spread out on the floor.

The third volume of historical records had a crack in its spine. Lyra had noticed it on first handling — the kind of crack that came from years of being opened to the same page repeatedly, the book developing a memory for the place it was most often asked to go. She had been curious about it since, running her thumb along the crack each time she picked it up, wondering what page had been visited enough to leave that mark. She found it on the fourth day of reading. Page 247.

"I don't see any mistakes," "Fourth page, bottom left corner; twelfth page, top left corner; fifteenth page top right corner; twenty fifth page, the middle; thirty first page; bottom and the top of the next page; fortieth page, top and bottom; forty sixth page, bottom left corner.... forty eighth page, top left corner," he finished, without failing to maintain his straight face from the very beginning, and upto the very last word. I was unaware that my jaw had dropped. Bringing my lips together, I gulped.

"Ninety-five. Too short. One hundred fifteen. Too long. One hundred five. Getting warmer. One hundred nine. Colder. Okay, here it is. A Girl and a Dog. One hundred pages." Jane walked up and down the shelves, half looking at the titles, half looking at nothing. "Here's another one," Emily called over to her in a loud whisper. "A horse of Her Own. Exactly one hundred pages. Do want it? Or do you want A Girl and a Dog instead?" Jane shook her head. "It sounds like a children's book." "It looks like a short book. Okay, here's another one. One hundred and three pages. There's a dog on the cover too."

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He was quiet for a moment. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "I've been thinking," he said, "about the ledger. The third volume. How many pages are left." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "Forty-three," she said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "And after that?" he said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She looked at him. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "There's a fourth," she said. "I ordered it last month."

Her thoughts wouldn’t slow down. She began flipping through every page, desperate for sense. Then she noticed something strange, tiny marks in the corners of some pages. Dots. Circles. A pattern. She counted them, one, two, three, four… eight. The eighth marked page was the last one. She turned it slowly. It was blank. Or so it seemed. When she tilted the notebook toward the light, faint pencil impressions appeared, shadows of words written on a missing page that had been torn out.

"The water didn't touch the pages." Devashish carefully opened the singed cover. The pages were made of thick parchment, covered in intricate blueprints of the city above, overlaid with red ink lines that formed a completely different map. It wasn't a map of roads or buildings; it was a schematic of energy currents, tracking the movement of time through specific geographic points along the Ridge.

Panunuyang saad nito which made Mason to growl in disapproval. But my attention wasn't on them anymore kundi sa mga naunang sinabi ni Mason habang matiim lang na nakatitig sa pahinang yon. Medyo makapal ang papel ng pahinang yon and there's nothing wrong if I give it a try.. Nagsisimula na ngayong magbangayan ang dalawa but I just ignored them kahit pa magpatayan pa ang mga ito. I quickly tried to strip the other half layer of that page and to my surprise, it had stripped easily like I was just striping some wallpaper in a wall.

I replied. Hamada-san was thirty-five years old. He had made his way up to the post of Division Manager through effort and perseverance. While his strong brown pupils held a youthful vigour, his stray grey hair was testimony to his tireless work and the pressure. It was no wonder that he was up for another promotion soon. “Do send me the details of the sales for the 2-chome branch too before you leave.” “I shall do that.” I bowed, excused myself and returned to my work. It had not even been a week since I finished my previous project.