Lost Words: Beyond The Page Novels & Stories

They all came to a conclusion that maybe it is because she seemed very innocent, that older men would always prefer younger women. After leaving the voicemail, she got up from her bed. She slid the door which handle was made of golden metal, walked out into the balcony and spread her arms in front of her, touched the metal railing which was made of wood, and the balcony wall made of glass. She closed her eyes and breathed, then put her right hand on her chest. She opened her eyes, and whispered, "I am going after you, Jonathan Albertson. No matter what." She went back in the room, slid the door closed behind her and dialed a number. "Hi," she said cheerfully. "Yes, please, a ticket to Los An

Morrigan's voice trembled. “It’s old enough that meaning no longer plays a role for him.” The librarian raised something. A hand. Or something similar. A huge figure of characters and shadows. Letters fell down from her like black rain. Phrases. Words. Names. Forgotten names. The sky over Nerevin darkened. Then the librarian spoke. Not loud. And yet it heard the whole city. A voice of a thousand voices. From millions. ‘THE LAST PAGE’. Mara felt the sound in her bones.

Hand on the knob. The house burned behind her, slowly, elegantly. The kind of fire that didn’t destroy, only reminded you what had already been lost. She didn’t look back. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t cry. She turned the handle. The door creaked open. And behind it, There was no sky. No ground, Just a single chair. Facing away from her. Someone sat in it. Reading, A book made of bone. Their voice hummed. And the page they read out loud was Chapter 101.

The entire valley trembled. Ancient symbols appeared beneath Kael's and Liana's feet. A warm light surrounded them. The guardian raised his hand. "But words alone cannot satisfy the Bridge of Truth." "The bridge sees into the heart." The light suddenly grew brighter. Everything around Liana disappeared. She found herself standing inside the bookstore where she had worked. The familiar scent of books filled the air. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Emma stood behind the counter, smiling. "Liana!" "There you are." Liana blinked in confusion.

Pups were still not coming, and the population that had launched a forty year war to save itself was still collapsing. They had won, but they were still losing. I turned the page. And stopped. The next section had a different heading in a different ink, like it had been added later by a different hand. Or so they believed. Three words. I leaned forward. Or so they believed. The page after that was blank. I flipped forward. Blank. Blank. Blank. An entire section. Empty pages where there should have been text. Like something had been removed or hidden. I looked at the shelf. There were more volumes.

We leaned over the rail and drove the iron key straight down into the black fluid, clicking it into the basalt slot beneath the water. We didn't turn it to the right—the direction of the profit column. We turned it to the left—the direction of the Loss. The Open Page The chapter concluded as the harbor fluid didn't drain; it evaporated. The thousands of origami boats shattered into millions of flat, white linen pages that flew upward into the velvet sky, stitching themselves together into a massive, infinite horizon of clean paper that wiped out the white cliffs and the grey mist of the First District. The blue ship didn't fall; it remained suspended, its cedar hull resting on a sea of pure,

before walking into the bathroom. Hot water poured over my body, steam slowly rising as I stared at my exhausted reflection in the mirror. For some reason, the account name "True Love Above All" came to mind, and its boastful words stung my eyes. "He told me that the she-wolf by his side only needs a title. As for me, I need his protection. This is the amulet he has obtained from a witch after visiting the forbidden grounds." The she-wolf by his side and the cheap bangle…

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.

Working next to him last night helped me forget my lost love until now. I make it back to the courtyard next to Eurydice's room. I sit down on one of the stone benches, the sound of trickling water calming the irregular beat of my heart. And then the flood of tears escape with a heart-wrenching sob. A little girl's history lesson for the day pierced the wall I was trying so valiantly hard to keep up.

But near the bottom, wrapped in wax paper, lay something stranger. A book. No spine. No title. Pages brittle with age, browned at the edges. She pulled it out slowly, brushing off dust. One corner had been nibbled by time or mice but the contents were still intact. She opened the first page. “Once, far beyond the veil of true sight, there lived a widow in a house made entirely of glass. Every day she watched others… but no one ever saw her watching.” Isolde blinked. She knew this story.