Re Reading Novels & Stories

But Parth was more puzzled at her behaviour. " Are you alright dear? Grandma said; no,no,I mean you always busy with your phone but we got shocked to see you reading newspaper." Parth got the matter.He started at Lily angrily with his eyes wide open but today he was not in mood to start any fight with his sister.So,he got deep down in the newspaper again.He was pretending to reading it but actually he was still thinking about the party whether he should go or not. ******** It was going to be 2 p.m but still not decided yet what to do. Parth was walking in his room impatiently.His phone rang up.

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Outside the window, the moonlight flowed like water. And here, in his arms, I felt the pulse of a new life growing within me. This was the weight of happiness. Heavy, yet incredibly comforting. (The End)

She moved into the shelves and I followed and we went slowly through the fiction section where she pulled things out and read the first pages with the efficiency of someone who knew within a paragraph whether a book was for her. She found three. I found one. At the counter she looked at mine. "You've read that," she said. "I want to read it again." "You reread things." "Occasionally. When something's worth it." "What's worth it about this one." "The structure," I said. "First time you read for what happens. Second time you read for how it was built." She looked at the cover. "Can I read it first," she said. "You have three."

A single name, written in careful, unhurried handwriting, the kind of handwriting that belonged to someone who had spent a lifetime believing their words mattered enough to write clearly. She read it. Read it again. The room seemed to tilt very slightly, the way a floor tilts when the certainty you were standing on turns out to have never been solid. She read it a third time, because the first two readings had not been enough to make it true yet, and the third reading did not make it any less true, it simply confirmed what the first reading had already told her and she had not been ready to hear.

It read. \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \

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I murmured to myself, feeling the need to read I once again. “Day 1 of 41.” I started reading aloud. I do not care anymore if there may be someone who can hear me reciting a poem but no one can stop me. I am absolutely on the point of mu=y life that I have to read something for me to gain back the lessons I have lost, the metaphors I forgot to use and the feeling of having those butterflies inside my stomach. I just miss that point in my life and now I am giving myself a favour. Stars gone falling down

"Three years. You have three years to take your revenge then you will work for me.youll have to do a few things in-between but not much" "What? like a reaper? Harvest souls and all that shit....... Emmmm No thank you just send me on my way thank you." Michael shot back. "NO not like a reaper you silly bastard are you stupid you'll be alive in a new body you're not qualified for that job. FUCK. I'm offering you revenge on the people who killed you. A Second Chance at life but when the time comes in three years you do as I say and if the job is done right. You can go live out the rest of your life. Il even let you live till 100 if you want."

I pretend to focus on swimming, on clearing my mind, but my body reacts on its own, muscles tense, thoughts messy. After my routine, I return to my room to read, curling up with a steamy romance novel in an attempt to distract myself. My cheeks flush with every word, my pulse still too quick from last night and the memory of waking here. Hours pass, and the story grows repetitive; it no longer captures my attention. Curiosity gnaws at me. I wander through the house, silent, robe clinging to my damp body. My feet carry me almost unconsciously to the study. There, the envelope at the center of the table glimmers in the morning light. My pulse quickens. I pick it up, trembling, and tear it open