The Road Not Taken Novels & Stories

Three years after my release from prison, I ran into my ex-wife in the presidential suite of the most exclusive hotel in Bayshore. It had been years since I last saw her. She was draped in a silk robe, radiating wealth. When she recognized me, something unreadable passed through Cecily Monroe's eyes. "On the day you got out, why didn't you wait for me to come pick you up?" I said nothing and handed over the takeout. Her gaze dropped to the scar on my wrist, and her breath caught. "I went too far with that. But you've always been tougher than Adrian. You can always get back on your feet." She was talking about what happened six years ago, when Adrian Burke was involved in a catastrophic

The road had led Kael to a place he had never seen before. It was not a village or a town or a city. It was not a forest or a mountain or a valley. It was a crossroads. A place where many paths met, where many journeys converged, where many travelers paused to rest and to decide which way to go next. The air was still, carrying the scent of dust and distant rain. The sky was wide and open, a canvas of pale blue that seemed to stretch into forever. And it was there, at that crossroads, that Kael found something he had not been looking for.

That didn’t stop me from eyeing it up longingly as we pulled out onto the road, huddling in on myself to keep the chill at bay. “It’s mournful,” I said. “It’s about a man and his lost love, Lenore. He’s sitting in his room late at night, half asleep as he reads. Then there’s this tapping, and he opens the door, but there’s nobody there.” I paused, swallowing thickly. The menacing aura from before was swirling through the truck now, embedded in every sharp point of the fir trees outside and in every arched shadow.

It wears me out. I heard Alex's car drive up and park in the driveway. I knew it was his by its sound. I could also hear his steps and knew they were his. Everyone has their own gate, and if that wasn't enough of a give away, the second he opened the door I could smell his colgne. Jimmy Choo Man Blue. Ah, it smelled so good as long as he didn't put too much on. I was a little sensitive to smells although i tried not to bring it up too much. It also reminded me of another smell. It wasn't the same, but it had some of the same elements of the smell that belonged to the boy with no name. Im sure he wasn't a boy anymore. I sometimes imagined what he looked like now or what he was doing. I hated

This man was so crazy I imagined. It turns out his name was Duncan. When I got to know about him, Duncan was one of the worst beings I had met on planet earth. He was rude, loud and violet and drunken. Apart from the money, there was nothing good about him. He was very disrespectful, unspeakable and unpredictable. Infact I never understood what he really wanted from me. Ofcourse I discover all this after several weeks of getting to know him better. Can you imagine when we finally dated, Duncan commanded me to get out of his car in the middle of a high way just because I said something that pissed him off. You see readers, you cannot imagine how I got home in the middle of nowhere without

Nikolai “I missed this place.” Hope said as we entered the property on the aptly named Attitude Adjustment Road. It is immediately clear to even the most discerning connoisseur of life that you have crossed over into a different world. ‘Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both’ I said, absentmindedly reciting Robert Frost’s poem. ‘I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.’

Moving out of my chair to go in her direction, but I stopped when Marcus caught her. This scenario is nothing new to me. Last time I saw Yngrid like this is when she lost her mother and brother in a car accident. I witnessed how devastated she was at that moment. Even if she is only a Minor at that time drinking alcohol becomes her savior from the suffering she feels.

and closes the door behind him. I hold my breath until I hear the truck leave, then walk to the window to watch it drive down the road until I can’t see or hear it anymore. Then I sink to my knees and cry until I can’t cry anymore. The mixture of thoughts and emotions is so hard to explain. Deep down, I know Rob"s full of shit, and at the same time, I believe I’m a lazy fat-ass, and everyone thinks so.

Two paths stretched before her: to the right, a narrow, shadowed track; to the left, a wide sunlit road heavy with fruit. She sneered at the right-hand path, dismissing it without thought. The left road shone with promise. “I’m sure the little maid took the dull road,” she scoffed. “Of course she did—someone like her would never recognize value. But I, Rhea, am not so blind.” She strutted onto the left path. At first it was everything she’d hoped—bright, airy, lined with fruit-laden trees. She feasted greedily, stuffing herself with bananas, until at last she pressed on.

Hearing that, Edward Crayon quickly gestured for the driver to get the hell out of that place before another car got to their back and the driver immediately did as he was asked and drove the car backward before finding a way to have a u-turn and drove away from the road that was undone. The new road was lonely and free. There were not more than two cars on the road and they were moving past them. There were only trees and trees on the side of the road, beautiful trees and plants. The lonely road felt long as Edward Crayon returned his gaze to the newspaper that he was reading. “How many minutes would it take for us to get home?” he asked the driver. “Thirty minutes remaining.” Thirty minute