Staring At The Future Novels & Stories

He nods. “I’ve never thought about the future Cain, because our present is the one who will determine the outcome in the future. So, rather than wondering what will happen, why don’t we just focus to make the best of it in the present? Then, I’m sure there’ll be ‘us’ in the future.” He fixes his eyes on me. He gazes deep into my eyes. I stretch out my hand and caress his cheek. He places his forehead on mine.

he began, a thoughtful look settling over his features, “time isn't waiting for anyone... It moves faster now than ever. And in a few years, it’ll be moving even faster.” He smiled, but I frowned, confused by his metaphor. “Faster?” I repeated under my breath, trying to follow. “I want to be serious with my life,” he said, nodding slowly. “To build my future. And I’m ready to start now.” I listened, still unsure of where he was going with all of this. “Does that future include this place?” I asked, glancing around again. It truly was a beautiful space—perfect for a fresh start.

He was not reading — his book was open on his knee but he had not turned a page in twenty minutes. "You're not reading," I said. "No," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking about," I said. He closed the book. Set it on the coffee table. Looked at the city outside the windows for a moment. "The future," he said. I waited. "Specifically the foundation," he said. "And where we are. And what comes next." He paused. "And you." "Me specifically," I said.

Two green eyes, mine, stare at me for a moment before disappearing. The breach is not in her words. It is in that gaze. In that innocent and tenacious curiosity. She may have sealed the past in the concrete of her denial. But the future… the future belongs to those two little beings who are already searching for answers. And I'll be there when they come looking for them.

Inside me, the future continues to move like an animal I can’t let out. A kiss that has not happened yet burns on my mouth. A ring I have not worn yet feels heavy on my finger. A child’s laugh I have not heard yet echoes in the hollow place behind my ribs. Time is eternal. So it can afford to tease. It can afford to show us a life and dare us to ruin ourselves trying to claim it. I stare into the fire and decide something quietly, with no words at all. I will not be baited into desperation. If the future is real, it will come honestly.

Grayson commented. “What value is seeing the future?” I asked. “It is not about seeing the future; it is about being able to anticipate what is coming next. Being able to know what your opponent is going to do next,” he added. I looked at him for a long moment, before I looked away.

"What do we do now? If the Manifest is gone... how do we know what’s coming?" ​I looked at the shards of the First Draft, then at the living, breathing city of New York vibrating through the comms on my wrist. ​"Rule 31," I said. ​"What's the rule, Aara?" Thomas asked from the Scriptorium, his voice clear and bright. ​"The future isn't printed. It’s improvised."

Through the space. Through everything. And it reminds me— I’m not alone. Not completely. Not yet. I focus. On the threads. On the path that’s forming. On the place where everything can shift. And I take the next step. Not into the void. Not into nothing. But into something that has never existed before. A future— That hasn’t been decided yet.

"But who sent it? Lyra is gone. The Editor is in the mail. The Owner is a puddle of ink." "The Future doesn't have a sender," Cian said, his voice unusually grave. He stepped forward, his eyes shimmering with that gold-ink light. "The Future is just a place where everything we haven't done yet happens." Mina reached out. Before I could stop her, she flicked the brass latch.

I sit beside him and take his hand. “The Loom is showing me futures,” I say. “But none of them are fixed.” “And the past?” “Not mine. Not yet. But I feel it pulling too.” “Then what do we do?” “We hold together.” “And then?”“We burn forward.”