Paper Names Novels & Stories

The bubbles in his water glass have stopped rising. "Your sister," he says, "is very well situated." I do not know what that means. I know exactly what that means. The man reaches into his pocket and withdraws a folded sheet of paper, cream-colored, heavy stock, the kind of paper that costs more than the meal I ate on the train. He unfolds it once, twice, and lays it on the marble between us. The numbers are typed in a clean serif font, and the zeroes stretch across the page like a row of small open mouths.

He was carrying a scroll. I recognized what it was. It was a special roll of paper used to write important agreements. It is a paper that lasts a long time even if it's burned or submerged in water. Even my contract with Jermaine has also been copied onto the paper, showing the seriousness of the contents of the contract.

The public library printer hummed, spitting out the first page while the progress bar crawled across the monitor. My fingers hovered over the keyboard to guard the downloaded P*F. The original, the heavy parchment with the actual embossed seal, was still safe, hidden in the locked drawer at home. These were just reprints. Replacements for the ones he had torn up last year. I just wanted to see my name on a paper again, to prove to myself that I still existed outside of this apartment.

Even if they did have to work a little harder to get the ransom from her tight-fisted father, kidnapping the Paper Widow was an even smarter move than they originally thought. It took Elise a few moments to realize that she was the ‘Paper Widow’. The name confused her at first, but after thinking about how things played out for her since her secret marriage by proxy, she really had only been married on paper. Although embarrassing to have people aware of her folly, the name made sense.

I looked through the document and found that the only paper with English language was the one I saw earlier. I sighed and took the file that named humans. I opened the file and my eyes widen as I saw photos of a human followed by writings in Zylian but even so I can understand that it was a profile of the people. I frowned at the paper. Why do they have these profiles? Some were of soldier while others looked normal. "Who are you?" I said as I kept looking through. Then in saw letters in English as my eyes widen. I took the papers and eagerly read them.

Some of the papers were crumpled, the edges folded as if they’d been handled too many times. With everything gathered in her hands, she sat on the bed, adjusting her legs as she smoothed out one of the papers. Old scripts. Her brows lifted slightly. The pages were worn, covered in highlighted lines and scribbled notes. Some of them had dates from months ago, long before he’d gotten to where he was now. She flipped to another page. A letter. The paper was thinner, and it had the watermark of an agency. We regret to inform you… A Rejection letter.

A printer hummed to life in the corner. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and held it out to me. “Take it. A glimpse of the truth you’re so desperate for. Read it. And then ask yourself if this is a game you really want to play.” I hesitated, then took the paper. It was a list of names. Dozens of them. Next to each name was a date and a large sum of money. At the top of the page was a title: Argus Project - Beneficiary Disbursements.

Above the countertop, there is an open shelving section built into the wall unit, holding a few brightly coloured folders adding colour to the otherwise natural space. Harper approached to printers control panel, to select her print job on the small screen and confirming the print job. The machine started printing, pulling paper from one of its trays and feeding it through with a series of soft mechanical sounds. After several minutes, a large stack of paper would appear in the output tray on top. She collected the document, straightening the pages and taking them to the counter. She sorted through the documents, organising them in three separate packs and then she tapped the stack lightly a

Once, it had meant comfort. Now it smelled like evidence. Velvera closed the door. “You said you could not see me.” “This is not a visit.” Her face hardened. “What does that mean?” I removed a folded copy of the supplier report from my coat. “Where do you buy your writing paper?” She blinked. “What?” “The cream paper with the silver watermark.” Her expression became still for a fraction of a second. Then offense appeared. “Why are you asking me about paper?” “Answer.” “I order it from a merchant.”

Elena Vale has spent her entire life sticking to the rules, until the night she's forced into an engagement she never wanted. Fleeing from her high-society cage, she ends up in a grimy bar, drinking with a brooding stranger who offers the one thing she never expected: freedom.  Jack Roman is the last man a woman like Elena Vale should marry. Tattooed, sharp-tongued, and hiding secrets behind his sea blue eyes. He's everything she's been taught to avoid. But when an impulsive drunken wedding turns into a full-blown scandal, Elena seizes the chaos. She makes him a deal — six months of pretending, then they part ways. To Elena, faking a marriage with a stranger is supposed to keep her