The Start After The Ending Novels & Stories

I had endured because Dante held my hand and told me there would be a life after all of it. Now that life had finally come, he wanted me to hide it. “If you truly love me,” I said, “why is my child the one who has to disappear?” Dante’s expression darkened. “Don’t make it sound like that.” “But that is what you’re doing.” A few guards and staff members had started looking toward the office. Dante noticed and lowered his voice. “We’ll talk at home.” He guided me out through the private elevator. Serena followed us without being asked.

She looked forward without urgency. And that was the ending she had earned. THE END

Neither of them was in a hurry. THE END

A thing with a location was a thing you could bear to wait for. He finished the book. He closed it. He sat with the quality of having finished something, which was not the same as the quality of having ended something. Finishing was completed. The ending was a loss. The therapy would be an ending, and he would hold it as an ending, with all the weight that endings deserved. But the after—the after was not an ending. The after was a different kind of thing.

This was just the beginning. The End.

Waiting for something to end. Or begin.

Time to end this one way or another. ***

“What’s starting?” But I was already moving, eyes narrowed, mind sharpened by clarity and pain. “The endgame.”

there would always be something just about to happen. The End.

He glanced at his wife and calmly said, “I know you love him, but I think it would be better for us to start our life together immediately.” She turned back to look at her husband and said, “I know you love her, but I feel that it is time for us to start our new life and forget everything.” They both finally said the things which they wanted to say for a long time, but the only difference is they didn’t say to the people they thought they would during that “long” time. They actually uttered those words to the people who became their New Beginning…