The Forty Five Novels & Stories

"I'm not sixty. Do I really look sixty?" "Fifty-five?" "No." "Fifty?" "Jesus Christ, woman." "Then tell me!" He groaned, shaking his head. "Fine. I'm forty-five." My mouth dropped open on impulse. "Forty... Forty five?" "Yeah." "Wow." I leaned back against the sink, processing that. "That's… that's a twenty-year gap." "I know." "Like, a really big gap." "I'm aware." I laughed, more out of disbelief than anything else. "And yet here we are, having a perfectly normal conversation."

We didn’t just want to build a clinic; we wanted to create real change. As I glanced at Mrs. Narti’s dimly lit house next door, a question suddenly popped into my mind that had been swirling around without an answer. “Julien, Ratna said she’s seven years old, right?” I furrowed my brow, trying to formulate my words. “But Mrs. Narti looks… well, she’s probably over fifty. I’m just… curious. I mean, why at that age does she still have such a small child?”

The Supreme Fiend Lord asked, “Who are you looking for?” Santino went straight to the point and said, “Forty-nine.”

Now, Jake’s call replayed in his mind, every word a sharp reminder that Sudan wasn’t fine, that he was out here somewhere, bruised, bleeding and trying to pretend he didn’t care. Zach’s grip tightened. “Hang on, Su,” he whispered. “Just hang on.” The city lights grew brighter as he reached the industrial district. The old gym Jake mentioned sat on the corner of 9th, a crumbling brick building with boarded windows and a flickering neon sign that read 24HR FITNESS. The place was deserted except for a few cars lined along the curb. Zach parked across the street and got out. The air hit him like ice. His breath fogged as he crossed the cracked pavement, boots crunching on frost. Music thumped fa

She thinks it was absurd to answer the kid's question. "Fifty five times and then what? After that I'm all gloomy? You're so ridiculous kid. Why don't you go find your momma, hmm?" "But would you? If you answer I'll go but be warned. Once the fifty fifth is taken, I don't know if you can take it all in," the kid said, gazing at her intensely. Chassy doesn't even get the kid. Thinking it's just some child's game she rolls her eyes and answered, "Yeah sure, make me smile fifty five times kid," mocking the kid.

“Mum, forty people is not nothing big.” “Forty is intimate, Kira. Do you know what I had for my fiftieth? Two hundred and thirty people and a string quartet. Forty is practically a kitchen supper.” She closed the notepad. “It’s done, it’s booked, your father is very excited and Marcus is already arguing with me about the seating arrangement, so it’s happening.” Kira looked at the ceiling.

On our wedding day, my fiancée and brother died in a tragic crash, and the shock left my mother completely bedridden. Everyone blamed me, saying I brought misfortune and death to everyone around me. However, I didn't even have time to grieve. I worked myself to the bone, hauling concrete at construction sites by day and delivering food by night, just to afford my mother's medical bills. Then came the day I took a side job wearing a mascot suit for a grand opening event. One employee mentioned, "Our boss is super rich and handsome, and his wife is so sweet. Their family is so loving. They even rescue stray cats and dogs all the time!" I stayed quiet, only worried about whether I'd make it

“You really know your stuff.” She shrugged. “I should with as much time as I’ve put into the subject. Anyway, you were saying something about retirement?” “Yes, I retired a few months ago but I don’t think I’m quite ready to spend my days fishing and golfing.” She looked at me for several long seconds. “I don’t want to be rude, but can I guess how old you are?” “Or I could just tell you,” I said with a laugh. “I’m forty-four.” “I would not have guessed that.” “Is that a good thing?”

I look over at him and now that he’s standing in the sunshine, I notice that he has glints of silver at his temples. “How long have you been here?” I ask again, curious now. He grins, reading my mind. “Longer than you think. And by the way, forty-five,” he says, startling me. “What?” He smiles. “Before you ask. I’m forty-five.” I blush and stammer, “Oh I wasn’t…” He shrugs.

The city noise overwhelms me, so I stare out the window, watching everything move, letting my mind drift and trying not to fall apart. The trip is a bit long, silent. "We're here," Sam says as he parks. Ford's building is very similar to Más Uno-tall, impressive, and full of luxury. "Stay close to me." We hurry down hallways as long as they are endless. At the fifth white door, Sam stops and knocks. "Come in!" a loud voice calls out. "Well, well... Mr. Hill. To what do I owe the honor?" a tall man in his forties asks, standing up.