The Space Between Novels & Stories

"The between-space isn't completely safe. There are things that live here. Things that hunt lost souls." I felt my stomach drop. "What kind of things?" "Void walkers. Reality parasites. The ghosts of collapsed worlds." Erina's shadow fiends were becoming more agitated, their movements sharp and anxious. "The between-space is where broken things come to die. And sometimes, those broken things don't want to die alone." "Why the hell didn't you mention this earlier?" Brady demanded. "I didn't think she'd go far! I thought she was just walking to clear her head, not..."

I didn’t move away. Neither did he. The room stayed still. Except for the sound of our breathing. And the space between us… slowly closing.

The space between us was no longer just physical—it was everything. And I wasn’t sure how, or if, we could ever bridge the gap.

The space between people. And whether it could survive being made optional. For now—it still existed. And for now— That was enough.

He looks at me. And in the space between us ... everything changes.

What was that thing in my head? "Come on,I wanna show you something,"Rodger said, stretching a hand to me "Annette's waiting" Seth ran off before Rodger and I followed. I met them back at the house, Annette standing at the front beside a bus. A really bitten up white mini bus with paintings on it. "What's this?" I asked. "Meet Fiona!"Rodger said,his hands making an abracadabra gesture towards the beaten up mini bus. Annette chuckled quietly and rather mockingly as she stepped beside me.

As soon as Jenna entered the hip-hop class, she how observed different groups of dancers were scattered around, everyone was chit-chatting, everyone was gossiping. The mirrors in the room were up to the ceiling and down to the hardwood floor. The dance studio was massive and she loved it.

she spoke I shook my head and let it go. We have a beautiful apartment with a spacious living room , a beautiful dinning table, a modern kitchen with a balcony which give us the perfect view. We have a small sitting place in the balcony also. I usually sit there and read books with a cup of a coffee

It was nearly organized. There was a vase of plastic flowers – anemone – sitting in the corner, all arranged at a specific angle, forty degrees or so and an empty fish tank, adorned with fake seaweed and multicolored pebbles. But its empty and its water was clean. There was a television, almost a meter, I guess. I walked towards the marble table, beeping the recorder. "Twelve bottles of beers please, -" I said, looking at the white bed, "- room thirteen."

Stopping it, effortlessly. The space between us shrinks. The tension sharpens. And for the first time tonight, I step forward.