The Remains Of The Day Novels & Stories

the men responded in a low rumble that vibrated through the stone floor. As the sun’s rays finally hit the courtyard, a beautiful thing happened. The bodies of our fallen brothers began to glow with a soft, white light. Slowly, they dissipated into fine, shimmering ash. The morning breeze caught the remains, lifting them upward and scattering them until they were nothing but a memory in the air. "Rest in the heights," I muttered. I dismissed the men to their posts and turned toward Axel. The stoic mask had finally cracked. Axel was actually smiling.

Not just by the burnt dinner or the throbbing pain in her hand, but by everything; her thoughts, her day, and that maddening encounter at the mall. Van’s brows drew together in quiet alarm. “Are you… all right?” She pressed her hand to her forehead, sighing deeply, but didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, needing something— anything— to do with her hands. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a stack of plates, moving with stiff, robotic precision. When she turned back around, she found Van by the sink, his eyes fixed on the charred remains of the custard pie. The dish sat there, blackened and smoking slightly, an undeniable sign of everything gone wrong.

Then he said quietly, almost to himself, “Because nothing ever stays buried.” The words hung in the air like smoke, heavy and unshakable. They disappeared into the darkness together, their silhouettes melting into the ruins of everything that had just burned. The night swallowed them whole, leaving behind only the sound of distant crackling and the whisper of wind moving through scorched trees. But as the fire died out something in the ashes moved. A faint click. A spark. A glint of metal. And from the charred remains, Antonio’s phone half-melted, screen flickering lit up. The glow was weak, sickly blue against the black.

"Rosalia, I was wrong… Please come back." Just then, a wave carried a drifting bottle onto the beach. Inside was a yellowed piece of paper containing my neat handwriting. "Jared, by the time you read this, I will be gone for good. Not just gone, but never existed at all. The system gave me seven days. I could have fixed everything, but what you did was enough to make me give up. Farewell. I hope you and Melody find happiness."

But before things could go further, their desire was already leaving for his office, not bothering to even look at them. Man Hae, like every time, was already so done with their “eyestalk”, and headed back to her table, not forgetting to greet back every one passing by, with a warm “seeming” smile, coming straight from the brain rather than heart, cause why not, after all, she is not at a place to be cold or ignore any one of those which she has to work with, and why involve heart when they are not at all at someplace for her to do so. And with this all, the normal, just normal day of CLAD started, with everyone being drowned; some in the figure, and some in facts

She did not need to count the remaining ticking hours. There was exactly one single day left before the invisible two-week clock finally expired. There was exactly one day remaining before the heavy, cream-colored envelope resting on the table would finally be opened. She stirred the dark reduction slowly. She absolutely knew the truth now. Tomorrow. It will be tomorrow.

Just recognition. And then he disappeared into the blur of polished shoes and soft conversation. I drew a breath. Straightened. Adjusted the buttons on my coat—slowly, deliberately—as if fastening myself against the weight of what I couldn’t control. The day wasn’t over—but the room had made its choice. "We lost Day One," I said. Dorris didn’t respond. "Let’s prep for tomorrow. They haven't seen Phase Two yet."

The remains of the fire glowed drearily before my eyes. The sun was going down, and I was no longer thinking that I had spent the whole day with a stranger who was really strange. That I had almost slept with him in a bear’s lair. That I had almost died from a seizure. And now, I’m watching the dying embers with him in the company of an undead called Zomzom.

**** [From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night Summertime and I'm caught in the feeling Getting high and I'm up on the ceiling I don't know what you're doing in New York All I know is you ain't on my bedroom floor I'm seeing you undressed in my room But it's just a memory, a fantasy (Fantasy) Are you in your house? Are you going out? Are you going crazy like me? From the breaking of the day to the middle of the night I try to forget about you, baby And I die when I think of you with someone else and I don't know

The girl they’re missing is exactly where she wants to be. And every night, under the streets of Hot Springs, Holly Holiday sings for an audience that never has to let her go. Some stories don’t need to be told to the living. Some legends belong to the Dead. The Next Day A Normal Thursday (or as close as we get) Thursday March 25th, 2027 Period 2 – Photo Lab with Julian The darkroom smells like developer and cedar (Julian’s doing). He’s got the red safelight on low, prints hanging like ghosts from the line.