The Times Book Novels & Stories

The leftovers were for the servants. Waste not right? Adrexa suddenly bursts into the kitchen, where I am patiently waiting for the outcome of my meal. "The Prince and Princess want to see you immediately!" Adrexa commands breathlessly. Shit. Adrexa quickly turns and scurries back down the corridor. I quickly follow her, but I feel incredibly fatigued from my day. The shock of my wondrous journey through time, landing me in ancient Troy, discovering I'm not dreaming, and spending the rest of the day cooking a meal using age-old techniques.

They balance each other well and are quite inspiring, with how strong their bond is. Lucia knows all about Mr Sanders and what kind of a person he is. She had worked for two months before quitting. She was too vocal and called Mr Sanders out, for the way he acted and how he treated the female staff. I wish I had taken the same route earlier without having to get fired. Now who will write my recommendation letter? Staring at the newspaper, that's laid out on my lap with alot of job advertisements pen marked by me, I scrunch my nose at how weird the paper now looks with so much red lines written on it.

There was no time to make him dinner. Still, I nodded. I could change my flight to 10 p.m. and let that meal be my last goodbye.

Garett went over some of the briefings he had to close out for the week though he had time off. He had called into his boss, the lawyer who was a senior partner, and explained the situation and what he hoped to accomplish for the next week or so. Though it wasn’t an easy conversation to have, he knew that he wanted to get it over with and have the time ready to do whatever needed to be done.

—Flashback— “Bronx, there’s a monster in my closet. Maybe it’s a witch.” I peek into his room. He’s reading a book. I bet it doesn’t have pictures. He says books with pictures are little kid books. I like books with pictures though. Maybe when I’m ten like him, I won’t like picture books anymore? That sounds boring. I’ll like picture books forever. “There’s no monster or witch in your closet.” He keeps reading. “It’s your imagination.”

Somewhere in the city—several stories above, in a steel and glass building—Julian Blackwood lay in his dark, sleek bedroom, staring at the book she had given him. He'd never intended to keep it. When Lena Carter had offered it to him—those gentle words, that thoughtful crease between her eyebrows—he'd intended to refuse. But something in her eyes had taken away his intention. It was neither flirting nor pretense. It was genuine. Silent. Generous. He hated kindness. It broke things open. Julian gazed down at the book. The cover was unadorned, the title in gold print: *A Man Called Ove*. He remembered Lena's words:

They can't do anything good in humanity nor even help us be free, but since he's my mother's invention, then he'll be an exemption for that. Those past generations are amazed by this robot. I've read it from the book I saw years ago, the 20th-century book. There are oy few robots that they are advertising there, they are so mesmerized by it that they desperately want to have one but they can't for robots are that expensive in their time without knowing that it'll be free yet destructive in this era. Maybe if I were in the past, I will also be amazed by it. But sadly, I was delivered in an era where lives are useless. I'm living in a world where existence is being questioned and secrets overr

I found it, I said and pulled out a book. I hold a book, The Time Traveler’s Wife. The cover of the book shows a girl wearing black knee length dress and black school shoes with long white socks. And beside the girl is what looks like a red picnic cloth, with neatly folded man’s clothes and shoes on top of it. I paused for a while and stared at the cover of the book. Henry uncontrollably travels back and forth through time. He cannot choose the time and place he would like to travel to. Will I even know if I travel to the past or the future?

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