Sunshine Threads Novels & Stories

To him, time was like an interloping of threads, all related to each other and the ultimate space, and in rare, yet possible cases, it was possible to bend those threads. Threads...threads of time...it rang a bell, but I wasn't sure where I had heard it from. I closed the book and fell on the chair. Time travel? Me? For what? So I can re-live some of the worst years of my life? I held my hair in handfuls and yelled, hoping that if I yelled hard enough, some miracle will take place and take me back to the time I belong. I have already lived past this. This is not my life any more.

MILA Frances and his assistant poured over the portfolio like it was a rare manuscript. I shifted in my seat, resisting the urge to glance at my watch again. There was too much riding on today–too much to still do. Frances finally looked up, his eyes twinkling behind those sleek, gold-framed glasses. “This is truly something special,” he said, tapping the edge of the page. “And the technology?” I straightened a bit, proud. “Smart fabric. Reactive threads that shift color based on light exposure and body temperature. The effect is subtle, elegant—like your vintage diamond collection. Sophisticated, but with presence.”