Our Last Days Novels & Stories

Let's end this. ***

Sometimes his bright smile made me forget that we would soon return to our homes, back to my miserable life. “About that….” i was saying but he cut me off, catching me off guard and caging me to the wall. “No time for that,” he said softly, coming closer to me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He was standing close to me, much closer than how friends were supposed to be. “Ja…cob, what's the problem? what are you doing?” I stammered, “The problem is today is the last day of our stay in this hell hole, and probably the last we see of each other,” he said, his voice dark and husky.

So much for travelling incognito. Needless to say, my one-time fling with Septimus has proved ineffective in bringing back his mojo. And so Operation Courting Death is go. Today is D-Day, October 31st, All Saints’ Eve and the last workday before Rina would stay holed up in her hotel; her home away from home. I say a confused prayer to whoever god would care to listen (my moral compass is so effed up now) that no policeman impound the horses and book us before we can carry out our evil deed.

“Home. Us home.” _Silence. PCH. 2:31 PM._ Adrian driving. 72 BPM. One hand on wheel. One hand holding mine. “Day 38,” Adrian said. Quiet. So Isla didn’t hear. But she did. Always hears. “We did a crowd. We did school. We did Mother’s Day. In public. No panic. No Cayman. No Reese.” “Day 38,” I said. Squeezed his hand. “25 days left. Until June 2nd. Until ‘both’ starts. For real.”

"Just thank you for being on the road that day." "Thank you for barging into the road that day, too." And that was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep. _______

The rain pours down heavily on us. The universe is weeping. Weeping for losing such an innocent cute little angel. Marisa died yesterday. Her death crushed Ramon. I have never seen a man weep so hard. It was so bad I started crying too. I couldn't help it. It's her memorial service today.

They looked like the stuff motivational stories were made of, the way they stared into each other’s eyes. The train was filled with mostly aging people, men and women who had seen better in life and looked content with what they had made of it. Their faces told different stories, some of nostalgia, some of regret, but the overhanging feeling in the train was contentment. The only young people in the train were two college students who looked out of place. “Sonia, I had a bad dream last night,” Greg said. The old woman, now identified as Sonia , turned sharply to look at Greg. It was obvious that the two of them were partners; their attention was reserved only for both of them, and it seemed

Your voice was muffled, but still managed to let out a soft laugh as you spoke. "The pancakes in your mouth! Disgusting!" I complained, but you only laughed as an answer. We both know how much I don't like seeing the mashed food from the mouth because it often makes me wanna vomit when I am eating at the same time. "But you need to finish up too. We're going to start the messages later," you reminded as you let out a soft laugh. Right. The sixth day was meant for making and filming messages for what you said are sort of a last message in case someone got to leave without giving a proper goodbye.

Hall picked up his teacup for a long time before finally saying, "Nine days ago, Jess came to see me. She wants to break things off with you." "I don't accept that!" Samson protested. "Then go tell her yourself," Mr. Hall snapped, almost roaring. Samson, a man who had never backed down from any challenge, now lowered his head in defeat. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a row of sunflowers drawn on the back of the marriage application. Ten sunflowers in perfect order. He froze. If each flower stood for a day, that meant it had been exactly ten days.

I placed the papers on the table, neat and tidy. I was going to leave a message for her, but I did not go through with it. Instead, I said it in my mind, 'Hey honey, this is the last time I'm calling you that, I guess. I spent ten years in love with you. It's really hard doing that, I know, but I'm giving up anyway. Congratulations, to both you and me.' I grabbed my suitcase. The moment the countdown was over, I put my hand on the doorknob.