Past Tense Novels & Stories

Like she had done a shift at a coffee shop. "I'm glad I could help," Irina said pleasantly. "Yes, you are." A smile. "You have a good heart, Irina. You always were." Were. Past tense. Already. Irina put a piece of toast in her mouth and chewed and maintained her expression with the focus of a woman doing competitive sport. It escalated quietly throughout the week.

"She was not a person who waited for someone else to handle things." Something moves in his voice on that sentence .... the smallest variation, the briefest departure from the even delivery, there and then controlled again. But I hear it. The specific frequency of love described in the past tense by someone who has had years to make peace with the past tense and has made something like peace with it but has not made the mistake of confusing peace with absence.

Said anything else was unnecessary complexity. Day 2, 11:43 PM - Adrien: And you got something different every time. Said life was too short to be predictable. I loved that about you. Still do. Present tense. Not past. Not a memory. Still do. Day 2, 11:52 PM - Me: When this is over, we're going back there. First thing. Terrible coffee and all. Day 2, 11:54 PM - Adrien: Promise? Day 2, 11:56 PM - Me: Promise.

"The thing keeps an account of you. The record is continuous. The keeping is the accumulation." Ernest looked at him. He received the revision as the thing it was: accurate. But more than accurate—illuminating. The shift from "has" to "keeps" changed the entire temporality of the sentence. "Has" was past perfect—the thing had the account, the account existed, the account was complete. "Keeps" was present continuous—the thing was keeping the account, was still keeping it, would continue to keep it. The account was not a finished document. It was a living record, updated continuously by every interaction between the person and the thing.

Like we were the only ones in the world and nothing else mattered. Once I did fall asleep, I had the oddest dreams. Deacon was always there though. It was like we were running through a timeline every time I turned to look at him. He looked younger in some and in one we were both elderly sitting together on a porch. Others we were young enough to be in the 5th grade. Our clothes were odd and our accents were always different I even spoke different languages. But I always knew what I was saying to him and vice versa. He always had a look of love in his eyes..no natter what.

“Do you regret it—what we had?” The man shakes his head instantly. “I would never.” A long pause, mingled with beating hearts and sweating foreheads, ensues. “I only regret how it ended. I regret leaving the way I did. But meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me.” I notice his use of present tense instead of past tense. “Is?” I ask. My curiosity overwhelmed me.

I feel pain piercing my heart. “I don’t like you,” she smiled. "I love you." She bowed and turned away. "You, do you really love me?" She started walking to the exit. Why is it past tense? I chased her and for some inexplicable reason she suddenly disappeared from sight. She suddenly disappeared again. Annoying! Damn! I circled the entire mall and was frustrated that I stood near the entrance because I could not find her. I left the mall. I was caught in the heavy rain so I just stayed standing there on the side.

Ven turned and smiled. "Nandini, long time no see." "Long time no see, my husband in the past." Normal 0 false false false IN X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes;

Getting him to have a meal with me used to require booking a date a month in advance. Even when we did go out, he was impatient and cold the entire time. When we left the restaurant in the past, he would never wait for me by the restroom, let alone carry my coat. He used to say, "Women are such a hassle", before walking straight to the parking lot. It was as if I were some virus he couldn't wait to escape from. Yet now, he stood there willingly, doing for Brooke what he had never been willing to do for me. I felt bitter, but I no longer wanted to dwell on it.