The Life Of The Book の小説・ストーリー

*FROM HERE ON THERE WILL BE NO CHAPTERS NAME (𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞)

I dimmed the kill lights in my eyes and made a good impression of trying to hide behind Sal as if unsure of myself. Will continue in Part 4: The Life Rebirth

"Weren't you aware of her life with the Harrises? She was called Mrs. Harris, but no one gave her the time of day, cared about how she felt. Even the fancy clothes and jewels in the closets were just for show, on loan to make her look the part. "Her depression was deep, man. She tried to find something to hold onto and thought maybe a pet that was truly hers could give her some comfort, someone to talk to every day. "However, in the Harris family household, that viper's nest, what pet could she keep? "Dogs and cats were out of the question. She knew if she brought home a dog or a cat, Chester would find a way to get rid of it by morning. "She racked her brain and ended up secretly keeping a

she cried to us as she handed us the painting that was meant for us. I just smiled at her as she hugged us. I looked down at the painting I was holding. "Life in the Darkness" — The Woman Who Lived in the Dark." ** Life in Darkness has signed off.

As did the others, who went back to their stale conversation as he flipped through the pages of the book Elinor had been reading. Unsurprisingly, the title of the book was ‘Redemption’. These days, this word seemed to be the theme of Elinor’s life.

The queen asked, making herself home on the chair next to mine. I smiled sadly and handed her the book. “It's about a woman, or rather, the last few days of her life before she died from cancer.” “Sounds depressing, and yet so relatable. It's so funny how someone's life could be measured by what she did in her last days, as if she did not live a lifetime. I hope you won't mind lending me once you are finished.” She smiled and returned the book to me. “So, how are you? I heard about what happened last night.”

There was only one way to find out. Drawing in a deep breath, I gripped a gold-bound book and tugged it out of the shelf. My heart hammered in anticipation but nothing happened. A sigh of longing left my lips as I ran my fingertips over the embossed pattern. ‘The Rites of life and death.’ How I wish I had the time to read this. I let my gaze linger on its cover for a moment before putting it back.

I close the book when I reach the part where he goes down on her in public, knowing there are multiple guards around. Fucking hell, what kind of life did people think she led? I go back to the bookshelves in my office, picking out of the first that catches my eyes. It is still about her, the more historically accurate one. Not the real one but at least it doesn’t have ten pages describing how thoroughly satisfied and satiated she is. This covers more of her early life, how they got that information is beyond me because I doubted she’d told anyone the story. It is still a good read but not good enough a distraction for me.

Until she asked me a question that triggered my feelings of “Allie, I've noticed that when I ask you a question that doesn't have to do with your illness you somehow always add CF to the conversation, why is that?” I bite the inside of my cheek thinking about my answer, until I decide to speak. “I don't know, I really don't know, it's like it's all related to that” “Have you ever thought that there are more things in life that you can enjoy," he raises an eyebrow in my direction and sighs at my silence, “you seem to have made your life revolve around CF and forget that there is a world beyond the walls of your room”

Maybe the only fun I had there was flying with swords. Then the future galactic world? Honestly, out of all my ninety-nine reincarnations, I didn’t reach that kind of world yet or even some apocalyptic world, and I’m thankful for that. [11:59 pm] It really felt like I am having some sort of a countdown for New Year. But in my case, it's a countdown for my New Life. Yes, let's just call it new life and not death. It sounded depressing to call it like that.