Ordinary People Novels & Stories

"In person. Someone they already know, who can speak to the experience directly." "I can't argue against what Ferris has told them," she said. "But I can be a person they've met, who grew up ordinary, who found something genuinely useful here and came back different in ways they can see for themselves." She paused. "That's harder to dismiss than a letter." I thought about what Sorin had said, sitting in our library after the ordinary Tuesday. An old woman describing an unremarkable Tuesday tells more truth than any extraordinary demonstration. "Yes," I said. "Go."

Clara's declaration didn't impress the man. He simply shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, kid. Life only comes around once, that's true. But every life is just a repeat of the ones that came before. "You start out fired up. You're convinced you're different. Convinced you're the main character in something. Then you step out into the world, and you begin to see your parents for what they are. Ordinary people. "Then you accept that you're ordinary too. One day, you accept that your children will be ordinary as well. No matter how far society advances, that's all it ever does. One generation of ordinary people handing

Emilia yawned and didn't hear clearly, "What?" Lola said, "Their lives are so nice." Emilia glanced out the window in confusion, then looked back and said, not understanding, "It's just an ordinary life. What's so great about that?" Lola pointed to the orange sunlight projected onto the window, "For me," she said, "the ordinary lives of ordinary people are nice."

Others moved more slowly, enjoying the calm weather after the rain. A young mother pushed a stroller carefully across the street while her little boy skipped beside her, holding onto the edge of her coat. A businessman stood near the corner, speaking seriously into his phone while adjusting the strap of his briefcase. Two teenage girls walked past laughing loudly at something on one of their phones, completely lost in their own little world. It was an ordinary day. An ordinary city. Ordinary people living ordinary lives. But standing there, watching it all through the glass, something settled warmly inside my chest. Because for me, this life no longer felt ord

The valley trembled beneath the roar of approaching engines. Thirty vehicles became fifty. Fifty became more. Headlights stretched across the hills like rivers of fire. Dust rolled into the evening sky. Samuel stood at the center of the railway crossing, the black envelope tucked securely inside his coat. Around him, hundreds of ordinary men and women quietly took their places. No military uniforms. No expensive weapons. Just ordinary people. Teachers. Doctors. Farmers. Engineers. Journalists. Retired judges.

"Pull yourself together, Max." Max nodded and sat back in his place. He repeatedly breathed in and out. If I hadn't been in the social circle of ordinary employees, I might not have known that there was such a life. Lower-class people struggle for food and shelter and bully others for their amusement or because of their inability to be just like their friends or rivals.

They greeted me, and I couldn't help but size them up. From the look, they look like people from a noble family from the human kingdom, and I could already tell that they came here for their selfish requests. Humans are the most unsatisfied species on earth; they have things they want and things they can't let go of. They want everything good to be theirs, and they detest being the ones in problems. A crazy thought that runs through the minds of all of them. And I can't help but think they are crazy. “And what can I do unto you, mere mortals!” I asked with a straight face as they raised their heads.

He took a deep breath and then strode forward. The floating guards at the entrance did not stop him. As long as one wasn’t a wanted criminal, the Bureau did not restrict civilians from entering and exiting. To ordinary people, extraordinary individuals were shrouded in mystery. Even though many of them worked in the entertainment industry, their immense strength constantly reminded the average person of one simple truth: We are not the same! Driven by a sense of curiosity, crowds of people flocked daily to the Bureau, eager to see extraordinary individuals up close, hoping for a glimpse into their world.

He doesn’t like it when people act like they’re walking on thin ice when beside him, he wants them to act as if he’s just an ordinary person with nothing particular to contribute to the industry. He often wonders how he will be living if he were just an ordinary, middle-class individual. A small, duplex house, one car, a paying job to pay rent, bills and everything. Possibly, with a cat or two, and a loving wife to come home to. A wife where he’d come home to meet the whiff of freshly cooked food, the sweet melody of humming from the kitchen, and the warm smile of his eternal partner.

Ordinary people would not be able to earn the clothes they wore even after working for their entire lives. Harvey’s sweatshirt made him stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this…