Station Eleven Kindle Novels & Stories

“Why do I feel so different with this one picture?” “That is part of where we are really from.” He said. “That is the closest one I have seen, though. I have been looking for one that narrows it down.” “Mr. Bridger, I really don’t understand any of this,” Kristen said, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder. Somehow as she was staring at the photo, he had moved, and she didn’t know it. She normally always knew where someone was around her. “Listen.” He said, “In the beginning, we know there were things that were being built. The planets, the stars, and life.”

"Buying a sky penthouse for one dollar? Keep dreaming." Speechless, I pointed at the company seal on the contract. "Look carefully. This is real." But he pulled out a lighter and burned the corner of the contract. The flame shot up with a hiss. "Connor, stop acting. "Don't think a few sales achievements mean you can use the back door to buy property. "Even if the company really had a benefit like this, Lydia should be the first person to enjoy it!" I lunged forward, trying to snatch the burning contract back.

I ignored his gaze and turned to look at the worried Andy. "Andy, I'm hungry. I would like to drink Mom's chicken soup." "Sure thing." Andy patted me on my head and flashed me a smile. At the same time, chaos reigned in the corridors. "I need Adele Lakewood's family! She's bleeding!" Jonah immediately sprang up and pushed the door open, yelling, "I'm here! I'm her husband!" Before he left, he looked at me, but a nurse soon escorted him away. I lowered my eyes, saying nothing.

He turned to look at her, her eyes glazed and breathing ragged, and his Adam's apple bobbed hard. Then he lifted his hand and ended the call that was still ringing. It was my call. He gently scooped Liliana up in his arms and laid her back in the middle of the bed, then drew the covers up to her chin. His voice, low and restrained, filtered through the video. "I'm here for you. Just until the meds wear off." Then the screen went black, leaving only a vague grunt and Liliana's soft, smug giggle. I sat in the dark hospital room, shivering, feeling like I had been plunged into an icy pond.

Hard enough to silence his own thoughts for a while. It felt familiar. It safe. It felt like nothing at all. ***** Selena got home just after midnight. The mansion was dark except for the single lamp she had left on in the library. She kicked off her heels by the door and padded upstairs barefoot, carrying the new book Alexander had insisted she take home. Her phone buzzed in her hand. **Alexander:** Did you make it home safe? She smiled faintly at the screen and typed back while walking. **Selena:** Yeah. Thank you for tonight.

Office Gray says, bowing slightly alongside his partner before they both walk back to their car. I stare once again at the once upon a time vibrant environment that is now clouded with smoke and darkness. A tired sigh escapes my lips when I realise that this may actually just be the beginning. I know it's weird but I just have this feeling that the worst is yet to come and the truth is, the thought of it alone scared me like nothing else.

I groaned because I didn't know how she came up with that. I lay on the floor sobbing; I was too tired to even care. "C." I heard Felix's voice calling. "In here." I managed to call back. "Holy fuck, what the-" then he let out high pitch scream. Felix rushed over to my side and knee beside me. "Are you alright?" "I had to kill him." I cried. Felix looked over at Russell. “You had your reason." Felix pulled out his phone, called 911, and then helped me over to the stairs.

I c-can't breathe a-anymore. ©SKIES AMBRIELLE Votes and comments are, highly appreciated! Thanks for reading!>.<

Tonight I just want to settle at the foot of the stairs and call it a night. I make a game of it. ‘Guess what they’re doing’, I call it. As I pass each neighbour, I try to guess what they’re doing. On the first floor, there’s no prizes for guessing because I can smell the cardamom and potatoes and cheese. Mrs Choudry is dishing up for Mr Choudry who is sitting with his belly touching the table complaining that he is starving. My mouth waters for her honey mustard paneer tikka. I hurry past the second floor apartment in spite of my aching legs. If sadness has a smell it is this: damp and bitter, the bitterness made only worse by the hint of something sweet beneath it. The man who lives there