Solitude In One Hundred Years Of Solitude の小説・ストーリー

They bathed together, ate together, and went shopping together, just like what a couple deeply in love would do. I didn't make a scene as I simply watched them show off their affection in silence. With five more days left in the divorce's waiting period, Julian suddenly suggested climbing a snow-covered mountain. He insisted that I come, too. Halfway up, Evelyn had left to get something, leaving Julian and me alone. The gentleness on his face vanished at once, replaced by a cold stare. "Why are you still hanging around here? Do you really think Evelyn will fall for you eventually?"

I could hear it faintly beneath the machines' roar, distant traffic, occasional voices passing on the sidewalk, the ordinary sounds of eight million people living their ordinary lives while I fought through the most frightening, most physically demanding hour of my entire existence completely, terrifyingly alone in every way that mattered. No brothers to hold my hand. No mother, whatever her true intentions might have been across nineteen years of careful, calculated distance. No pack, no family, no one beyond one exhausted, frightened woman who had spent two decades preparing for exactly this moment without ever fully understanding why. I gripped Ruth's hand hard enough that I feared I migh

He is chosen to be a doll of the family’s young master and forced to take the sin that he didn’t commit. “Regret is nothing but a word itself.” His principle and conviction that’s keeping him sane from the harsh and poor reality that he is born into. The only path that someone like him could ever have. “This place is just too lonely for me.” The protest of his slowly dire heart. Didn’t mind the cold nor the food that wasn’t served to him in time and sometimes none. All he wanted, for a young fourteen boy that is him, is someone to talk with. For it is the only way for him to survive ever drowning in insanity.

I prepared all the ingredients for my viand tonight. I heaved a deep sigh before I resumed slicing the onion. The entire house was enveloped by defeaning silence— no enthusiasm, no energy. Even though I’m used to being alone, I still can’t help but to feel sad. It’s really hard to be alone. But at least, I am free. Solitude doesn’t always mean sadness, it also means freedom. Though, I miss Mother Isabella and everyone in the convent at some times. “Ouch! That hurts,” I moaned. Because I was not focusing on what I was doing, I accidentally injured my finger. It bled immediately and stained the onion I was slicing.

If one looked down from a high place, one could not help but feel that the small courtyard and its owner were isolated by other surrounding buildings and the Gibson family members. For the past ten years, Solana lived alone in the small courtyard. She had no servants to serve her and refused to be served by others. Everything was done on her own, and she usually did not talk to others either. If she were not practicing, her only way to rest besides sleeping was to sit in the corridor outside the house, hug her knees, and look at the sky. Sometimes, Solana would stare at the sky for the whole night.

Our days were filled with laughter, imagination, and a sense of wonder that seemed to permeate every aspect of our lives. But right now, it was the year 2023, Florence felt more lonely and more alone than ever. Florence clutched the glass of alcohol, its amber liquid swirling in her hand. Never before had she felt so isolated, so utterly alone in the world. The drink had become her solace, her crutch, a desperate attempt to maintain her sanity in the face of overwhelming despair. Her gaze was fixed on the rich, reddish-brown hue of the bourbon, as if seeking refuge within its depths.

I have no idea how long I was unconscious and, considering I do not even own a phone, there is no way for me to check the time. I know most people would find it strange not to have a phone in this day and age, but honestly, I have never had any use for one. I do not have friends or have anyone waiting for my calls or messages, so what would be the point? Ever since becoming an outcast, I have grown used to my own company and the silence that comes with it. Solitude became safer because at least when I was alone, I did not have to constantly feel suffocated by everyone’s hatred and coldness toward me.

My eyelids, heavy with fatigue, close almost involuntarily, shutting out the disorienting darkness of the night around me. For the first time in my life, there’s no one around, no familiar faces, no voices to break the silence. It’s just me, stranded in some remote corner of the world, far from everything I’ve ever known. This island, a place that should feel like a refuge, instead feels like a prison. The solitude is suffocating, the silence oppressive, and despite the stretch of land I now call my own, I feel more isolated than ever before. The waves that had once been a constant, threatening presence are now a distant murmur, reminding me of the peril I narrowly escaped.

Snow settling into her hair, into the quiet she left behind. I didn’t follow. But for the first time in years, the lodge didn’t feel empty when I went back inside and right then I knew the answer to my eleven years of loneliness.. There’s no way am staying another year without Solane in my life!

I silently wish her well and leave her side, returning to my own home. I look around at the cold, open expanse of my home nestled deep in the Italian Alps. My solitary sanctuary. Surrounded by glass walls and built into the earth, I love this house. I love the openness of it. Something Yildiz and I seem to have in common. But our homes are not the same. Hers was full of warmth, and mine is filled with nothing but coldness. As I make my way to the stairs and up to my bedroom I think over the eons I have existed and the atrocities I have caused, and as each one flashes through my mind I can’t help but think how wrong Zarseti is. I don’t deserve love or happiness; I deserve to be alone. My hear