Recounting Stories Novels & Stories

Minsan ay nagbibisekleta lamang siya. Hindi ko iyon tinatanggihan. I want us closer than before. I want us to have something more than what we have before. I was conscious about what was happening at first. Hindi mawala-wala ang iba't-ibang kuwento mula sa mga tao. They'd make stories and spread it around like a virus. Other people would believe while some people have their own versions of us. It just gets worse and worse. They see us the way how we were in their minds and not what we really were. At kung ano ang ipininta nila sa amin, iyon ang ipipresinta nila sa iba pang tao. Making bad stories against other people was a never-ending saga.

(Translation: Now, let's continue the story further. "Haan wo to hum bhool hi gaye the. Phir uske baad Bhanu wapis aa gaye the---" she again started narrating the incidents to him. (Translation: Yes, I had forgotten that. Then after that Bhanu came back---") Flashback

“But I’m grateful. Because this room—this cause—it reminds me why we tell stories in the first place. To give voice to what hurt. And to make room for what heals.” I looked down for a moment. Then up. My eyes found Michael in the crowd. And I added, “And sometimes... if we’re lucky, our stories find their way back to where they began. Not to repeat themselves. But to be rewritten—with grace.” — After, as we stood near the dessert table and I tried to look like I wasn’t emotional over crème brûlée, a journalist approached us. “Emerald,” she said. “Would you mind if I asked—what changed?”

My hands curled at my sides. “I “I was human, I said.Low-status. Easy to sacrifice.” Rowan frowned, small brows knitting. They knew the broad strokes now. We’d never lied about that part. “But the thing about stories,” I said, “is that they only work if you keep telling them the same way. If you don’t stop and ask, ‘Who decided this was how it had to be?’” I glanced at Ronan. He was watching me with that look he still got sometimes—half awe, half something like an apology that had turned into gratitude over the years.

Zahra whispered, not minding to hide the fear in her voice, “But why had they set fifteen huts ablaze?” “I can’t say for sure,” Dodo turned her attention to Zahra, “But my mother told me a story of how the three Kingdoms, after hunting, danced around a campfire. You want to hear the story?” “No,” Zahra and Ginika said in unison. They were not prepared to hear Dodo’s unending tale. She would only end up telling them of how her great, great, great grandmother, told her great, great grandmother and her great grandmother, to her… Her stories usually leave one hungry and light-headed, or it would knock you out.

Until now, strange short stories had only very short stories. But from volume two I intend to add stories that have 10 to 20 captains as well. These stories are not so long nor have so much visibility as a separated book. For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes.

“It is a very long story, so I hope that you can listen to it.” With that K began to tell a story, her past life story which her guys listened to every single word. They just didn’t know what this story’s meaning was as they knew that this wasn’t K story. However what K said next shocked them. “The woman was poisoned and she died. However, she received a second chance and woke up in the body of a young girl who had been abandoned by everyone and committed suicide by overdose. Given a second chance at life, the reincarnated woman swore to revenge for all the pain that the dead girl went through. Just like that the gangster woman became a teenager with a new life and began her journey to succe

“I have been raking my brain trying to make sense of everything but I haven’t found anything that makes sense. The math doesn’t add up.” Natasha laughed. “Maybe it doesn’t add up with you but it does with me.” “Then help me understand.” He threw his arms in the air. “You remember when you first came to my company in San Francisco four years ago?” She started to explain. “At your welcome party, you remember you tried to chat me up and I kicked you in your nuts.” “How can I ever forget that day? You still haven’t told me why you did that when I was just asking for your number.”

They were a passing thing. Yanta looked at the notices that were hanged on the notice board. The notices read: “Darrish Drinkwell, our greatest storyteller, is returning to scene with a second tome of his Tales Untold. The Hartin and Dartin Company are planning to publish a legend book. We will ask Drinkwell to write one more, if he accepts, well, you know the rest. Plan in advance, good folk; this is an opportunity unlike any other. You won’t cheaper copies that ours.

In other words, of Golden's group of four, only one of them wouldn't get a free pass to the next round. "My dear students, today, I have the honor to initiate a new tournament amongst our youngest students." Sainac started with his speech at the top of the arena. There were a lot of spectators, as the tournaments were always a great event in the academy. Sainac spoke without stopping for a whole thirty minutes about the past tournaments and the history of the academy. When he finished everyone applauded, but not because he gave a good speech, it was because he finished speaking. However, due to those applauses that he always heard after he finished the speeches, Sainac felt that everyone lik