Realism の小説・ストーリー

We share some interest and hobbies, that the reason we just click to each other. I court him for almost a month, he was living in apartment because his parents were both working abroad and just sending him his monthly allowance. When we reach our third month I introduce him to my family simply because I don't want to lie to them, and I am happy that they welcome him in an open arms. I was making some work and profits under my father's surveillance. I want to save for our future, using my own money so I can be dependable partner.

Does killing this man really prevent the upcoming attacks . I WANT TO PUT AN END TO THIS RIVALRY. Most of them say Revenge is the ultimatum, a man who achieved his revenge can be the powerful and peaceful man. But that's not true. A real man is a person who has revenge in his power but doesn't use it is the More greater man. The man who sits in front of me is the man who killed my parents, the reason why I had an oppressed childhood. Now he wants to kill the only woman I loved ever.

"I wrote this. I used the pencil. This was supposed to be real!" The little girl with the blue balloon giggled. The sound was like silver bells, but it made my skin crawl. She skipped through the chocolate-mud, her white dress staying perfectly clean. "The Shareholders love 'Realism,' Kaima," she said, popping a small chocolate bubble with her toe. "But they don't like the *uncomfortable* parts of realism. They want the 'Aesthetic' of struggle, but with the comfort of a dessert. It's called 'Gourmet Survival.' It's trending on the Lunar Colonies right now."

Sitting up, he saw the sun glittering on shards of glass littering the carpet; all that was left of a Parisian whiskey decanter his father had thrown at him last night after returning from the disastrous party. Sleepily running his hand through his hair, he encountered the bruise on his face. So, it had been more than a dream-- the whole debacle had been real. The whiskey had dimmed the memory into a fragmented nightmare that replayed itself over and over. Vince made his way to the washbasin to splash cool water on his face, hoping to clear his vision and head.

he shrugged. “I am real, Shane.” He smiled, “I use to believe that before too. Do you remember the day I went back to Chicago and stayed in the same hotel I stayed with the real you when she went there with me? You kept me company and made me not to miss her so much. It was the time I believed you were as real as I am, but every time I know I went to bed with you but always wake up alone, I began to believe that you really aren’t real.”

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I knew at that moment that I had just crossed my boundary. ////////////////////////////////// Okay, so I have decided to give each chapter a status Frenzy(easy to write) Cranky( not easy) Frenzy but a little Cranky, you know what that is. This is imperfection, the first trilogy.

Their legs began to shuffle but one of the campers stood still, his legs couldn't move and he had pissed on himself. "Everyone... Run! John screamed and immediately they began sprinted through the dark woods, some towards the direction of the camp, others overwhelmed by fear ran in other directions heading to unknown destinations. Summer was ahead of them all while Glenn and John were behind her. She wanted to die but certainly not in the hands of a beast she was yet to believe was real.