Re-written Novels & Stories

Orange light bled across the skyline in thin strips, and the streets below were still quiet, still unhurried, the whole city existing in that brief window before the day remembered its urgency. Valerie had no such luxury. She had 365 days. Maybe less. She opened her phone and created a new note, private, password locked, titled simply: RR. Rewrite. Reclaim. Ruin. She had not decided which word fit best yet. Perhaps all three. She began typing. Poultry, location, startup cost, supplier contacts. Feed mill collaboration window: eight months. Inheritance, do not sign. Do not sign anything. Secure legal advice quietly. Anthony's weakness: ego, fear of his father's disapproval, obsession with app

, I stutter, "I didn't mean to come across as angry or anything. It's just been a rough week for me... honestly" "Oh, you're fine. Wait", she widens her eyes, "are you the girl that--" "Wrote that Tweet?", I finish, "Yep, and starting to regret it". "No, NO, I totally agreed with you when I first read it", she says, "and I think your idea could be possible".

“I guess I’m done being kind.” I wipe my face slowly. That's when I see a number on my wrist. 365. My breath catches in my throat. Maybe it’s a trick of the light. Or a stain from the makeup artist's brush. It burns when I touch it. Not painfully. So I rub at it, harder and harder—but it doesn't fade. Then the timeline clicks into place in my mind. I have gone back into the past. My eyes go wide in shock. Maybe the number is a countdown. My pulse slows.

“spill it.“ I tried sounding as flat as I could so she wouldn't play games. “The thing is...“ she began, adjusting her chair closer to mine.“When I got picked last year, Mrs. Nora Williams had also offered me a job as a maid in her house. But I'd gotten expelled after a week in Greygott high. She'd said it was okay for me to keep my job but I was broken to stick around much longer. When I was leaving, she told me I was free to come back anytime for the job or I could bring a replacement of my choice. “Okay...?“ I drawled, not getting where this talk was leading us to. “Don't you get it?“ “As a matter of fact, I don't.“ “You could go as my replacement!“ she squealed delightedly. I was too sho