Time In A Novels & Stories

He knew it was eleven minutes because he checked the time when he sat down and checked it once more because he was who he was, and the interval between the two checks was eleven minutes, which was the length of a board call that wasn't going well and also the length of his shortest recent morning briefing and also, it turned out, the length of time it took him to drink a third of a very good Malbec. Eleven minutes was not a long time. In the normal course of his life, eleven minutes passed without his noticing—the interval between one meeting and the next, the time it took to review a document, the duration of a phone call that he would forget as soon as he hung up. Eleven minutes was nothin

Maybe the two of them would hit it off just fine. Alright, so he would pick Levi up at 12. Wait… why did that number seem so familiar? 🤔 Noah’s eyes dropped down to his wrist where his smartwatch was displaying the current time in big white numbers: 12:10 …Fuck.

She wanted to do it in a traditional way so that there wouldn't be any bad effect on their brain. On the TV's screen, the time shown was 7:48. Today, it seemed they'd really have to prepare to be late.

“Silly Kianna. You are more than what you think you are” Pinching my cheeks he gets back to his work after stealing a kiss from me. This guy… Looking back on my computer, I may seem to not do anything but… there is one thing I am trying to figure out. About that strange thing that happened to me. I mean… it is so unbelievable. Even gadgets such as time travel aren’t something that exists. But… why would that thing happen to me? Even the things that happened in the past that I recreate, in this timeline… it is gone. Like the farm orphanage for example.

I travel back to my residence on Madison Avenue, it's a forty minutes drive. This reminds me of the fact that my time with Adrian wasn't actually thirty minutes as stipulated but an hour. I could track the time from what's hit on my watch now I've arrived home and getting off the time left which is taken for the time I spent with him.

Ibekwe smiled, "that I am right." Ifeme raised his hands and pointed at a metal piece lying on top of a box. "What is that?" "It is a mechanical device," James smiled. "It tells the time." "What does the time says?" Ifeme asked. James told him to bring the wristwatch and he did. He studied the two hands in the wristwatch and grinned. "The time is ten minutes past nine," he said in Igbo but they didn't understand. "We don't know what you mean," Ifeme was the first to complain.

Time, in the world above ground, was measured by the frantic, relentless ticking of clocks, the impending crush of deadlines, and the desperate hustle of millions of people trying to outrun their own shadows. But time inside the walls of Elysium operated on an entirely different metric. Here, in the sanctuary we had bled to build, time was measured in the slow, rhythmic exhales of subspace, the steady burn of beeswax candles, and the profound, compounding weight of absolute trust.

Theodore turned to her with a dulled face as he replies " That's how it is sometimes, if there's no traffic you get there 30-40 minutes, if there is then, about an hour plus" "30-40 minutes is still not precise, do you know the accurate time we'll get there?" She retorted still being adamant Hold up, hold up, hold up! I think I liked you better with your mouth shut, like excuse me, what the hell do you mean by "accurate time?" I feel like throwing you out of this damn car! Bish do you know the exact time your flight landed? Or or how late I was when I picked you up, what about the exact hour, minute, second, millisecond, yes! millisecond you showed up on this earth? I am so not the god of t

She couldn’t keep fighting what was already set in motion. “I'm inviting you over to my family house to meet my parents and family. Get familiar and acquainted with my big family. It’s the appropriate thing to do. If I invited you or not, our parents will still find a way to make it happen. We can take it step by step”. “So, we really have to do this. What time?” “This evening. I'll come pick you up at your place. Is 7 o’clock okay?” “Yes.” He stood up ready to leave. Clara watched him walk out of her shop. She couldn’t bring herself to wave him goodbye when he did. All she did was settle into her chair and weep.

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.