Sarah Reading Novels & Stories

Luke "Fourteen pages," Sarah said, setting the file on my desk. "Everything Reid could pull by this morning." "Sit down." She sat. In eleven years, she had learned that when I said, "Sit down," it meant I wanted another set of eyes on whatever I was reading. She folded her hands and waited. I opened the file.

“You read one page and then you can turn the page to read the next one.” “Wow! Mumma, this is so cool.” Sia said her eyes wide with wonder. “Come, let me help you find a suitable book. This book is about coding. You wouldn’t understand though your brother……” “Who muma?” “Nothing, Let’s find an interesting book to read,” Sarah said picking her up. Arnold watched them as they moved along the shelves browsing through the numerous books, his surprise all forgotten. When Arnold couldn’t contain himself anymore he said, “Don’t you want to know what the surprise is?”

They have lived their lives fighting and trying to survive against this hunting of humanity. ‘’We have to do something. We cannot just observe here from the atmosphere’’, whispered Sarah Sarah has a well-shaped figure and a height shorter than a banana plant. She has hair as black as coal. Her eyes are like the color of ocean waves you see during summer. She has a rough voice that seems to be angry when speaking. She stylishly wears her old spacesuit.

SARAH I move closer to the intoxicating scent around me. It smells so familiar, but I can't place where I've smelled it before. It smells so good that I don't even want to open my eyes to check where it's coming from. It calms my heart and makes me want to spend the whole day wrapped around it. I let out a sigh and feel my breath bounce back against my face. That's odd; why did that happen? I slowly open my eyes to find out what's wrong. My eyes widen as I come face to face with a rock-hard chest. I quickly check my body to ensure I didn't do what I think I might have done. I know I drank a lot last night, but I am not one to have a drunken one-night stand. A breath of relief escapes me once

"You are not virgin?... But you said you had no boyfriend before me neither you had hookups..." He asked little bit mad. "No! I won't tell you. You will laugh at me... And probably make fun of me for whole life..." She pouted. "I don't know about the fun but I like the concept of whole life..." He grinned. "Now tell me before I lose patience... I won't laugh, I promise..." Sarah smiled embarrassed. "You know I have a habit of reading erotic novels right?... I was reading a very good book and I wanted to try it. I had no boyfriend so decided to use___"

Philip Sarah, my ex-wife, is now entangled with Bronn Martin. From Amir Benner to a computer software developer, she seems to have a penchant for wealthy men, a fact that stirs a deep-seated fury within me. She still retains a youthful allure, with her sophisticated, wavy brown hair cascading down her back. It struck me that she is now twenty-three, no longer the young teenager who once stood beside me in marriage. Her skin seemed to radiate under the gentle washroom lighting, and she was draped in a seductive dark dress that tempted sinful thoughts.

Sarah—the editor from the head office, now working in this city branch. I approached her with a polite smile, shaking her hand while trying my best to hide the trembling. “Thank you for making time, Sarah,” I said softly. She welcomed me warmly. No small talk. Once we sat down, I handed her the manuscript I had only just finished last night—the first chapter of the project I was supposed to finish for a competition within the next week. I watched Sarah as she read. Her eyes moved quickly, focused, and sharp. There was something about the way she read that made me feel exposed. Not just my writing, but all the feelings I’d been trying to keep neatly hidden—like she was peeling them back layer

[S⁠CE⁠NE: SARAH and AM‌O‌N‍’⁠s h‌ouse, Kololo.⁠ Six m‍onth⁠s af‌ter the Christmas revelation. Late Jun​e, early evening. SARA‍H is visibly p​regnant—eig‍ht months al⁠o‌ng wi⁠th their third ch‌ild. The house buz‌zes with‌ the evening routin⁠e. AYANA (8) does homework at t⁠he‌ dining table. DAVID (5, almost​ 6) plays q‍uietly with‍ his toy me⁠dical kit,⁠ bandaging his stuf⁠fed anim​a​ls with serious concen‌tration.⁠ AMON cooks⁠ dinner in the kitc⁠hen. SARAH sit​s on th⁠e​ co‌uch, feet elevat‍ed, one‌ hand on her belly, the other hol‌di​ng⁠ her p‍hone as she ta​lks to a cont​ractor ab‌ou‍t a housing project. Ever‍yt​hing appears normal, dome‍stic, peaceful.]

I read the last few entries again, completely locked in. “Just let me read this, Genevieve,” I say, my voice dropping into its calculated, serious register. “Let me read all of it.” “Read fast,” she snaps, checking her bare wrist. “I don’t have much time.” I could honestly learn to like this Sarah. A few minutes later, pulling her up on F******k on my own phone, I scroll through a couple of public photos. Yeah, I could definitely learn to like her. She is Grade-A, no question about it. Beautiful, elegant, clearly expensive.

I added while zipping up my bag. Quinn flipped a page of their thick book and did not even bother to look up at us. "Have fun at the mall," Quinn said in a quiet and deadpan voice. Sarah did not waste another second before she grabbed my arm and practically hauled me out of the heavy wooden chair. "W-wait a minute," I protested while stumbling behind her. "I still have fifty pages of pharmacology to read before tomorrow morning," I argued while dragging my feet. "You can read your textbook in the car while I drive us to the store," Sarah countered without slowing down.