Quiet Time Book Novels & Stories

~15 years ago~ A little guy at the age of 5 was busy reading a book under an old tree but still stood tall and look Almighty. His low grade cheap glasses make a silent noise whenever he turned his head to look at the next page. He reads very quietly that if one make a slightest noise around him, that noise will be transferred through his ears, like the light footstep at the back of the tree he was currently reading his psychological book in and that was heading its ways to him.

All the things I should have felt had dried up during the long wait. The truth was out. But her apology would not bring me back. The words I never got to say, the half-finished blade I left behind, the nights I spent waiting for someone to notice me. None of it could be fixed by regret. I stood in the yard at dusk. The wind moved through the cracks in the forging room, stirring the metal shavings scattered on the ground. They caught the last bit of light, then went dark. I knew it was time to go. Not because I had forgiven anything. Not because I had let anything go. But because some questions never get answers, and I had stopped waiting for them. At last, on a quiet evening, my spirit disso

The Quiet After Saxa The house settles into the night like a body finally giving up on pretending it isn’t hurt. Not quiet—never quiet—but slower, softer. Doors whisper shut instead of slamming. Voices become shapes more than sounds. The kitchen stops smelling like panic coffee and burns into something gentler; broth, bread, wool, and wood smoke. Someone left a pot of soup on the stove, the ladle still propped like they meant to come back but forgot about it a thin layer of skim formed over the top.

I was standing here for both of us, which was not the same as him being here, but was not nothing either. We were quiet for a moment, crouched beside Elara's sorrel in the early morning, the territory waking around us in the way of land that is used to waking without anyone watching, unhurried and unconcerned. The specific quality of that quiet was something I had not encountered before in quite this form. Not the silence of something empty. The silence of something that had been waiting a long time and was no longer waiting. "You said tomorrow," I said.

I have never trusted quiet. Not the gentle kind you get after rain, when the world smells rinsed clean and birds reclaim their arrogance. I mean the kind of quiet that arrives after violence, when people pretend the silence belongs to them and not to whatever is simply waiting its turn. The village had that second kind.

The house was quiet the kind of quiet that should have meant peace. Yet Adrien felt none of it Every sound the hum of the refrigerator, the distant ticking of the wall clock even the faint rustle of Ryan turning a page in the book he had been pretending to read pressed against Adrien’s ears like a reminder that silence could also suffocate.

She started work for the day, Biology; that was my best subject, our Math teacher took over afterward and break, I was the first to leave the class knowing clearly about the plan against me, I went to the last floor of our school building it was the most quiet, then I brought out my lunch, I would have headed to the cafeteria if not for two reasons, one too much people too much thought, two…I was to be ganged up against, even if it lonely here, I preferred it here, it was peaceful I thought closing my lunch box, I was done eating, I was about bringing out my books to go through when I heard someone stumbled through the door, he was shivering and shouting, and his hands trembling. "Hey!" I sh

] [I just found this one—it's crazy good! [Peachy, soft, chewy. You gotta try it!] [Send me your address. I'll mail you a whole jar!] And then—boom—she finally replied. An address. Just like that, the weird wall between us disappeared. I'd hunted down that exact bunny candy, trying to match it to her profile pic. I just wanted to make that quiet girl smile. "Want me to unwrap it for you?" he asked, all soft voice and warm eyes. Not so cold and mysterious anymore.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

" Shiloh paused. She looked Manuel straight in the eyes, a faint smile on her lips. "Want me to keep going?" Manuel went pale, but he still tried to defend himself. "It's not what you think. Rainee's always been timid. She's scared of the dark. Thunder terrifies her. Whenever there was a storm, she'd grab her stuffed bunny and come to my room. "After all these years, sleeping next to her on rainy nights just became a habit. That doesn't mean I loved her..."