The Matter With Things Novels & Stories

I've read that book about a million times but I never get tired of it and I never will. Books are better than people and that's why I love them. I get my necessities first then I decided to buy a new bag. I don't need it but I don't plan on buying much new clothes. Just a couple pairs of jeans, a few new hoodies, some cute flats, and some tops. After I finished my shopping I decided to get an impossible whopper. A lot of people don't like it but I actually do, it tastes just like a regular whopper and it's healthy. What's not to like?

The same habit of underlining things twice when they mattered. "He taught you his system," Elena said. Richard stopped beside her. "He said most people lose what matters because they don't know where they put it," Richard said. "He said a good system is the difference between evidence and noise." "He used to say that to me," Elena said quietly. "When I was twelve and couldn't find my homework." Richard looked at her. Then sat down heavily in the desk chair, like his legs had made a decision his brain was still catching up with.

Loop looks through it while continuing, "Some objects around us are easy to tell what the function. My Chanel 444 Gabrielle lipstick is meant to give a hint of color to what I apply it to. My mirror is to reflect the truth of things for me to see. A bag is to carry things." Mrs. Loop holds up those things she mentions for the class to see, and we nod along some bit. "However, some things in the world are a little harder to understand," says Mrs. Loop, and gestures outside at a garden we look out on, "like trees. Why do they grow? For who, or when, do they exist. That's one of the studies of majestic theory." "And I'm guessing that's where your question is from?" asks Mrs. Loop returns to Mac

Mr. Fren leans forward with both hands pressed firmly on his desk in front of him, shoulders squared as he waits for students to take their seat. His desk is neatly arranged, with a small nameplate reading “Mr. Fren– History” on it and a stack of books besides the nameplate, including titles such as The Roman Empire: A Very Short Introduction, The Silk Roads, Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond, and The Peloponnesian War by Donald Kagan. A black mug with the phrase “History is written by those who survive” sits nearby, alongside a pen holder filled with pens and pencils.

⸻ A pause. ⸻ “You don’t get to be everything.” ⸻ The entity responded immediately. ⸻ “Why not?” ⸻ Lena stepped forward. ⸻ “Because then you lose what matters.” ⸻ The entity paused. ⸻ “…Define matters.” ⸻ Lena’s voice didn’t waver. ⸻ “People.” ⸻ Silence. ⸻ Because that— ⸻ was the line. ⸻

“What’s with that look? Marriage is not the only way to get a girl, right? You can just kidnap her or simply adopt a little girl if you want to.” “IT”S A CRIME, DUMBASS!” They exclaimed irritatedly. “I just asked the way, right? So, there’s nothing wrong, right?” "He has lost his mind." They said in their mind. “Mindblowing, eh? It’s because I tend to think imaginatively instead of logically. Do you think everything started from logical thoughts? Then please explain how did they invent a lamp, the telephone, or even a sex doll? It’s because they were imagining things that would be convenient for them. And this is what I want to show you.”

I chuckled and cuddled up to her in the couch. 'Mate smells good. Get closer.' Conri said. 'I can't. we are already close.' I said. 'When can we mark mate?' He asks impatiently. 'Whenever she is ready. Let's don't rush her.' I replied. He plopped down like a toddler having a tantrum and huffed. I smiled and shrugged at him and looked at the movie she picked for us, the texas chainsaw massacre. of course. Seeing the look on my face she frowned and asked "Is this movie too scarry?"

“Yeah.” She leaned in a little. “Why?” Because wanting something means it can get ripped away. Because having it means someone can take it. Because this life we’re trying to build wasn’t made to last. But I didn’t say all that. Just said, “Because it matters.” She got the rest without me spelling it out. Night felt quieter. Less sharp. More heavy. I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling again. Question’s changed now. Not “will I get it?”

We’d even made peace with another reality. “We need a hobby,” Lina announced one afternoon, staring at a perfectly risen, prism-enhanced loaf of bread as if it had personally offended her. “Something that doesn't matter. At all.” “All things matter through the Prism,” Footnotes intoned from his desk, not looking up from his latest treatise: “On the Inherent Melancholy of Properly Proofed Dough.” “See?” Lina gestured at him. “Even our bread is having an existential crisis. We need to do something pointless. Frivolous. Something the Prism can’t find deep meaning in.”

"Thank Ms. Ellison for her kindness on my behalf, but my life isn't meant to clean up after her." I hung up and looked out at the busy traffic below. The collapse of that project had come even faster than I expected. A faint smile spread across my lips.