There's A Hundred And Four Days Novels & Stories

Panic rose in his chest. Right at that moment, the number above his head that was originally fewer than 100 days suddenly flashed eerily, and the number jumped from [89 days, 12 hours, 5 minutes] to [125 days, 7 hours, 30 minutes]. This was the first time the number had actually gone up.

Not once. Four days. I closed my eyes. Four days was going to be a long time.

The May afternoon. The city in its warmth. Four days.

Camila's POV Monday mornings usually begin with coffee but today begins with a number. Forty. I stop in the hallway outside the kitchen, staring at the calendar Mrs. Harper keeps pinned to the wall. Someone has circled the contract's final day in red ink weeks ago, and beneath today's date, my eyes automatically count the squares that remain. Forty days. Only forty. The number settles in my chest like a stone. "Morning." Alejandro's voice makes me jump.

Then ask him why’ Day ten of thirty Twenty days to go

I explained. "Woah that's so interesting." Jane squealed. "A day is 30 hours long and we have 8 days a week." "Let me guess you have a day in-between Saturday and Sunday." She laughed. "That is correct, that day is called Hawud. This means extra in English." I replied as we entered the atmosphere.

"Pack some stuffs. I want you to spend a week in here." Right, a week. A seven day vacation I wished would and could last longer. A week is quite a long vacation, actually, but spending it with you feels like a short period of time. Especially, if the plans I wanted to do with you will not fit for seven days. Or perhaps, I'm not really contented with the time you said. Perhaps, I want longer, like years. Perhaps, I just want you to stay beside me. Perhaps... I don't want you to leave after making a short vacation so euphoric. "Are you sure he's here?" Daniel asked as he lowered his head a little, to see outside the window beside me. I looked over my right side as well.

Today is just a day, same as all the rest. I rolled out of bed, my belly is so big I feel like a turtle sometimes. Stranded on my back, rocking from side to side, trying to right myself. I make a mark on the wall for every day that passes. The only thing I can count on in this life, I am forced to live. Is that the sun will come up in the morning and will set at night. Two hundred and forty five days. That is how many days have passed since I have felt the sun on my face or took a breath of fresh air. Two hundred and forty five days of living this nightmare. I have cried all the tears I can. There are no more left. All that is left is action.

Present. He had four more days to make the numbers work. He would.

He grabs me hard and kisses me like it’s been years. Fuck. I whimper into his mouth. Four days. Four whole days. I’m dripping.