Reminisce Book Novels & Stories

Once I was settled, I looked at the title again: *If Only He Loved Me*. I pressed my hand against the cover, then brought the book to my chest and closed my eyes. It is strange how a book title, a song, or just a few words can send you back through time, is it not? Sometimes the memories are good. Sometimes they are ones you wish you could erase. I let out a long breath, opening my eyes and pushing the past away. That was when something near the fireplace caught my eye. **************** Raymond's Pov

“How do you know that? You’re supposed to have amnesia, right?” I flopped into the space right next to her. “I’ve been remembering things lately,” I huffed, pressing the heel of my palm to my forehead. “My memory comes in tiny bits. Sometimes, I'm not even sure if it’s something that really happened or it’s a hallucination." “Your memory is returning,” she echoes, her voice dropping to a levelled tone. “That’s… sudden.” I frowned. “Why? You don’t like that?” “No,” Lina replied quickly. “I do. I’m just surprised. Have you been taking the meds Carter prescribed for you?”

Exhaustion is taking over, and I am having trouble keeping my eyes open. Right before my eyes close, the last thing I see is Braxius's blue-green eyes filled with love and sorrow. Except, I somehow know everything will be all right with him. That only thought is making my leaving easier, and I stop fighting the darkness. I am floating away towards total oblivion. I am having a few brief flashbacks of my short life of twenty-two years and growing up in New Jersey with Meena, my younger sister of nine months. I accepted my entry-level position at a prestigious marketing firm and graduating from college with honors as a business major with a minor in history.

It was how he remembered. She had mentioned The Sky Beneath Our Feet in passing. Not with intention. Not as a request. Just a soft aside in the middle of a conversation that had wandered late into the night, surrounded by empty mugs and tired smiles. The kind of book you talk about like an old friend you lost touch with. A story that once made you feel seen in a way that rearranged you, even if you didn’t have the language for it back then. A soul touchstone. She hadn’t expected him to catch that detail. Hadn’t expected him to recognize its weight, let alone go searching for it. And yet... here it was.

Every candle inside the Hall of Readers reignited by themselves. Thousands. Millions. An endless ocean of golden flames illuminated the darkness. Each flame contained a memory. Each memory belonged to someone whose story had once been erased. Children. Kings. Monsters. Dreamers. Entire civilizations flickered inside the tiny lights. Adrian realized something terrifying. None of those stories had truly disappeared. They had only been waiting. The White Book trembled again. A new sentence slowly appeared. "Every forgotten story remembers its author." The Pen of Endings suddenly flew into Adrian's hand.

“Memory, dear, did you ever end up reading that journal of your grandmother’s, the one with the cardinal on it? You mentioned it once before.” Memory’s forehead puckered. She couldn’t recall ever having mentioned it to Ellie, but then, her memory failed her more often than her name would imply. “No, not yet. Why?” “Just curious. I was thinking, your grandmother probably left some wisdom in there for you. I think I would have if I had been her.” She smiled confidently, and Memory found herself nodding.

"Thank you." Josiah opened the box, took out a small delicate glass bottle, put it in the palm of his hand while admiring it, and said, "The bottle is really intricate and beautiful." "Smell it again." Meredith said. Josiah tried IT again and nodded, "It smells good, it's the type I like." "What about Sweet Reminiscence?" "Each has its upsides." Josiah said, "Well of course I prefer Sweet Reminiscence, because in my memory, it reminds me of you. Every time I think of you, I also can’t help but to spray a little in the air."

Saying that quite out loud "When she awoke in a cold sweat, the darkness fresh inside and outside her mind, I would talk to her, speak words of encouragement in that high, teetering voice of mines until she made it to other end of the hall and to her mother’s room. You’re almost there. You’re almost there. No one had ever grown closer to her than me, no one had ever come closer to feeling like home." I sighed, that was her favorite story line from the book "Memories" by Dim Leon, I remember how much I hated reading that book, but she made me read her bed time stories. "I miss you every day Nuella" keeping aside a picture of hers, she was smiling at me that day, she looked so beautiful, she

The next morning, a single book arrived. Not chocolate. Not perfume. Just a worn hardcover: The Essence of Scent. Out of print. Markings in the margins. I opened to the first page and saw a note written in soft pencil. “For the one who still believes ingredients carry memory.” I blinked at it. Then closed the cover and set it on the shelf, telling myself it didn’t mean anything. By the third day, Elijah paused by my door, arms crossed. “You know Zenith’s sent another request?”

Chapter 83 Zara's POV It took a while before I flipped another page. The memories were all setting in, cementing in my mind again. It felt like my life was a book and I was reading through the chapters. Why was I doing this to myself? Why did I want to relive my pain? "Those who disregard the past are bound to repeat their mistakes." I knew that it was not for some grand reason like that. So why was I doing it? Another page.