Orange Lantern の小説・ストーリー

While waiting, his attention was drawn to a stand filled with totems and some of the finest lanterns he had seen that night. Couples and families would buy the totems, and pray over them. They would then attach them to lanterns to send into the sky for good luck. Arlen’s eyes were drawn to a green jade owl totem, and he smiled. Green, the colour of Luca’s eyes. And the owl reminded him of his guardian, Roxanne. "Excuse me, sir, how much for this?" Arlen asked the vendor. Seeing the distinct prints on Arlen’s robes, the vendor brought down his finest lantern and the chosen totem. "Please, my Lord, take this. It’s on the house."

He never let go of my hand. When we got to the forest, the young alpha crouched behind some shrubs and motioned for me to do the same. I followed suit. "Stay here," he ordered. "My horse is on the other side of the forest. I'll get my horse and circle back to you, but you mustn't leave this spot." "I won't leave this spot." I promised, but he shook his head. "No," he said. "Those people will kill you without feeling remorse if they find out you're here. Swear it. Upon the Moon Goddess."

Mufasa poked a straw into the jar and brought it to them. “Because their bioluminescent light have the tendency, the very extraordinary tendacy to be the source of a very severe effect on anyone that comes in while they are not in this blue colour,” he explained and handed the jar over to Wayne. Wayne's jaw ticked as he stared down on the bluey, whitish liquid. Obviously, he was not going to be a fan of drinking that every week. “The orbs have a different colour?” Olive inquired, curious about how the Ethe Orbs could be harmful on anyone who barged in.

“Let me review the details for you.” A picture of an old man appeared. “Garrett Norman is a chemist and has a factory called ‘oracle’, founded a new and rare metal called ‘oryx’ and crafted a weapon called the orb. Orb works like a nuclear bomb but is more compact, in the form of a diamond.” He paused. “It is powerful enough to kill an entire nation with a single strike. The government and every other illegal organization are after Garrett. We need to get it before anyone else.”

He just got electrocuted by a very weird yet beautiful orb. I am about to refute him but a sudden occurrence has taken my breath away. Another orb in orange starts to emerge from another grave. Then, another one which is yellow. Then another which is green. Then another until there are now hundreds of multi-colored orbs floating in front of us like glowing flowers in a garden at night, if it is possible, of course. I still can’t believe what I am seeing. I almost freak out when those orbs start to move and form one straight line. What’s going on?

I could just watched as she refrained from letting tears run down her cheeks. Every inch of my body was urging me to run up to her and hug her. But being the stupid me, I just watched. She stood there silently and looked at her wrist again, it had healed. "But this doesn't mean I'm willing to be luna." She whispered. I whimpered a little, feeling slightly hurt. She then took some oranges and started squeezing the juice out. She threw the oranges into the bin and put the glass juice on the table and wrote something on a piece of paper and started to walk to my direction.

He wanted to know everything about her, and his own impatience surprised him. Squashing his frustration, he stepped past them both and gestured toward the back corner of the greenhouse. "I don't have any blood oranges, but I do have these dwarf oranges." * * * "Okay, we're alone. Are we gonna talk about the elephant in the kitchen?" Sean asked. I'd rather cook the elephant. Athena unpacked the bounty they'd scored at Logan's farm. "You're a Bracelyn. I thought your family's whole schtick was pretending stuff didn't happen."

answered Nicola back sharply over Maria's remark. “I'd be– thank you–,” blurted Maria, cursory with her words, she had almost uttered to say that she had not intended to mean that the store had some stale oranges but had been interrupted by the arrival of two gentlemen dressed in ordinary craggy hill standard clothes of white shirt and trousers barging into the shop. Maria navigated herself between the veggie stand of assorted leaves, stems, roots, pods, flowers, tubers, bulbs, and other fruits that had been ripened in the wet season when the southwest monsoon hit the land and the imported oranges at the front behind the display window. Ignoring the frumpy girl holding a basket, the two me

Slowly the orange and yellow bright ball begins to appear like the colors of tangerines, lemons, and a grapefruit. The sun has begun to rise higher and higher very slowly, and the colors have become more vibrant. Viishuan blocked the sun rays to protect the queen from too much sun exposure. However, the sunrays slipped on his hand, with his fingers outstretched. Therefore some of them pass through the gaps in his fingers to lay on the ground below.

In its place is a pixie cut. Short. Choppy. And so aggressively, blindingly, violently orange that for a full second my brain simply refuses to accept it as real. Not auburn. Not copper. Orange. The specific, saturated, electric orange of a traffic cone, of a Halloween pumpkin, of something that exists to be seen from a very significant distance. I grab a handful of the short, bright strands and pull—just enough to confirm it’s attached, that it’s real, that this is actually happening and I’m not still asleep.