Time And Time Again Novel Novels & Stories

Isabelle’s head pounded and her stomach growled. For three days she’d stayed trapped in a room with no light, lying on a cot layered in dust. At least she assumed three days had lapsed. Time was near impossible to gauge. Particles from the air tickled her nose, and she sneezed. Groaning, she held her throbbing head and opened her eyes. A small glow peeked from under the door and gave her minimal light.

When I heard Madison's words, I suddenly remembered that she had said the same thing the last time I had surgery. She always talked about marriage, but the timeline kept getting pushed back. First, it was when the company got on track, then when it grew bigger, then when we had saved up enough money for a house, then after my surgery. She didn't want to lose me, yet she couldn't bring herself to commit to marrying me. This time, I gave a different answer. "I'm not going to marry you." I lay in the hospital bed and watched her sit quietly beside me. Memories from the past came rushing back one after another, but what we were now felt completely different from how we had once loved each other.

He got off the wheelchair and sat with her on the bench as they both watched the bustle of the hospital through the glass doors that overlooked the garden, like young lovers. Emily seated so close to Tim that she rested her head on his shoulder, he also draped his hand over her shoulder as they both sat there silently with contentment as they enjoyed each other's company. Passerbys who saw them beamed at the love they still shared even though they were both above fifty years of age. Emily and Tim occasionally caught the peaking passerby, glanced at each other, and laughed. After so many years of being together, nothing had changed for them. Tim still loved her as much as he did when he first

As he said it, his hand lifted and brushed her hair. Anna jerked back instantly. Her face turned cold, though a flicker of old hurt flashed beneath it. That touch—once familiar—now only made her recoil. Without another word, she turned and walked away quickly. She didn’t want to be near Rendy any longer. Every time she saw him, the old wounds she’d tried so hard to seal threatened to reopen. “The perfect picture,” Agnes murmured, eyes gleaming as she stared at her phone. Someone had just sent her a photo—Anna and Rendy in the hallway, captured at the exact moment Rendy’s hand touched Anna’s head. From the angle, it looked intimate… tender, even.

I had a new name and a new life in a new city. To fix my past regrets of quitting school, I went back to college. While walking on campus, someone tapped my shoulder. "Sophia, is that you?" My heart jumped, and I started to panic, but when I turned around, it was a man I did not know. "Do we know each other?" I asked, unsure. "I'm Brandon. We went to the same college before you left." "Oh, right. Sorry, I just didn't remember you at first."

Quill claps him on the shoulder gently, as he excuses himself to go talk to the rest of the guests. My father wheels me to the closest couch, sitting across from me, Caleb sitting next to him. Every now and then, Caleb freezes in place, and fights to take in air. "Time moves at a different pace in the Remmadon Kingdom.* Four days here was four months over there." my father explained. Caleb kept his mouth clamped shut, and his fingers twitched as he stares off into the distance. "Are you okay, Caleb?" I ask softly, and his eyes dart over to mine. He chuckles, patting my knee.

"Because... Because a year and a half ago, I was drugged... She… Brooke… She accidentally entered my room and... "I made a mistake, Em. It's all my fault." "Drugged?" I widened my eyes dramatically, as if hearing something unbelievable. "Sir, do you think this is some soap opera? "Even if the first time was an accident, what about the second time?" I counted on my fingers with interest. "It seems like this woman gave birth only a few months ago. If you claim you were drugged a year and a half ago, then you must have ‘happened’ to sleep with her and gotten her pregnant again.”

The unfinished portrait in Vincent's studio served as a silent witness to their love story, its canvas reflecting the intricate dance of their shared moments. Meanwhile, Abigail's presence in the 19th-century continued to disrupt the threads of time. The hourglass she had received was a constant reminder of her peculiar situation. The grains of sand that had once been frozen were now trickling down slowly, marking the passage of time in her original world. It served as a ticking time bomb, hinting at the harsh reality that awaited her.

Weapons she had never seen nor heard of. "What's the time?" He asked her. She pulled out her phone. "forty minutes past eight." "Wrong. What's the time, Sandra?" "Twenty minutes to nine?" Anthony's groan filled the room. "What time is it?" She looked at him, blankly. "It's revenge time,baby"

The "Violet-Spring" was a paradise for everyone but its architect. As the world moved into a state of "Shared-Resonance," Avery Vane-Thorne remained a "Dissonant-Note." While the people of Geneva walked in a glow of "New-Unity," Avery was still haunted by the "Archive-Static" of the 146 chapters she had lived. She could see the faces of friends who hadn't been born yet and feel the scars of battles that, in this new timeline, had never occurred. She was a "Walking-Anachronism," a human library of a tragedy that was no longer "Real."