Paulo Coelho Eleven Minutes Novels & Stories

The happiness lasted exactly eleven minutes. Not that I counted. My mind did it automatically afterward. The way people remember the exact length of calm before a storm. Eleven minutes. Eleven minutes of crying. Of holding each other. Of whispering impossible things. A baby. Another baby. A future. Then Elara's phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. Neither of us paid attention initially. We were too busy staring at each other. Too busy trying to process what had just happened.

Now it was my job to protect all of our kind. VENUS P.O.V... "Now, I know that I can't make you stay, but where's your heart, but where's your heart, but where's your-, and I know there's nothing I can say to change that part, to change that..." My eyes snap open to the alarm on my phone playing my favorite song, Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance. They have been my favorite band for years. "So many bright lights, they cast a shadow, but can I speak?"

He slept, and the sleep was deep and dreamless and full of the quiet certainty of a person who had finally, after eleven years, allowed himself to stop waiting. End of Chapter 46

"Louisa." The man standing before her breathed out. Louisa couldn't move. After fifteen solid years, she was meeting the love of her life all over. Granted, she knew she'd definitely meet him again after a while, but then after ten years she had started to relax, resigning herself to the fact that she'd probably never see him again. After all, he had come into her life and made a sad period of time a very happy one, not forgetting the gift of life he had left her with-Her only love, Isabel. She had assumed that he was just one of those people, the type who came into your life for a while but were not meant to stay and she had learnt to accept that.

He knew it was eleven minutes because he checked the time when he sat down and checked it once more because he was who he was, and the interval between the two checks was eleven minutes, which was the length of a board call that wasn't going well and also the length of his shortest recent morning briefing and also, it turned out, the length of time it took him to drink a third of a very good Malbec. Eleven minutes was not a long time. In the normal course of his life, eleven minutes passed without his noticing—the interval between one meeting and the next, the time it took to review a document, the duration of a phone call that he would forget as soon as he hung up. Eleven minutes was nothin

Calling his name exactly as she had when he was a child. "Adrian..." "Come home." His heartbeat stopped. He hadn't heard her voice in years. The golden light expanded into the shape of a doorway. No walls. No frame. Just light. Above it, words slowly appeared. THE ELEVENTH DOOR IS ENTERED... NOT OPENED. The First Reader lowered his head. Almost respectfully. "Now..." he whispered, "...history will choose whether it keeps you." The golden doorway expanded without making a sound. Its light did not blind Adrian.

Only a small reading light, that illuminated the spot above Nadia’s book as she sat in bed reading, broke the darkness of the bedroom. Nadia was focused on the novel in her left hand and the warm tea in the other. She’d been unable to sleep even after several drinks at the bar. Jake had been holed up in his own penthouse all day reading about demons and how to avoid them and the infamous story of the devil at the crossroad. Nadia wasn’t offended by his absence but the distraction would be nice, she thought.

someone asked; there was fear in his voice. I looked toward the faint glow of the shelter in the distance. "Dig a snow shelter. Use the heating modules from the parts." Using what I knew, I set up a makeshift thermal pocket in the snow. That night, all 11 of us huddled together while the storm howled outside. I held the core component close. That was the only thing standing between 30 thousand people and death. - When we made it back, Russell was already waiting at the lift with a full team.

For its big size, this place was pretty damn boring. A few hours had passed before an abrupt knock snapped me out of my bored trance. I glanced at the door, but I didn't bother to do anything more than say, "Come in!" I was clothed and comfortable this time, so there was no reason for me to have to get up or any such. Assuming it was Callum, I focused on the show again, not wanting to deal with his bullshit. "Athena!" I heard a familiar voice exclaim. My attention was quickly averted to the man that had called out to me. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I stared him up and down. We both froze as our eyes observed each other carefully, as if we doubted whether or not the other person was real.

Stumbling to a corner, I collapsed, crying without restraint. Seven years felt like an entire chapter of my life, but all I got in return for my love were nothing but betrayals. Though I wore my finest clothes, I was the most shattered person on that street. No one else could have been as miserable as I was. Nonetheless, I'd been through this kind of despair more times than I cared to count. This was the 11th time. People often claimed that misfortune wouldn't strike more than three times, but I had already gone far past that limit.