To Live Novel Novels & Stories

It was late at night when she finished reading, closed the book, and looked at the orange cover, like the warm winter sunshine that warms people's hearts in the cold, silently feeling someone's strength. She placed her English novel on the nightstand with her account book, turning off the lights in a completely dark room, but she felt herself roll her eyes. She and Robert are not married yet, why do you want to live in this marshal or mansion? Isn't it because she has no other place to live in Low City? If she went out to rent an apartment alone, Robert would of course disagree, but if her brother and sister-in-law's family were taken to Low City and opened a pharmacy in this city. Will she

How am I going to get home? “Fat bitch, do you not hear me talking to you.” I don’t respond as I wonder how the hell I’m going to get out of this book. I’ve read several novels like this, but the main character almost always dies in their world. Dread fills me; did I die in my sleep? I didn’t even get to read the last Game of Thrones novel; how could I have died? I’m young and healthy, yeah I’m relatively thick, but a little fat never hurt anyone.

One sunny afternoon, Virginia found herself engrossed in a book while sitting on a cozy armchair in the mansion's living room. Unbeknownst to her, Michelle, fueled by her growing resentment, had hatched a plan. She quietly approached Virginia, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‌

He filled his questions of her whereabouts with assumptions and brushed it off as if it was some necessary dust on his coat. Yvonne reminded me of myself, although we both suffered, we seem to have those small happy moments that we treasure. Although we came from two different backgrounds, we pretty much suffered the same. I fell asleep that day with a lot in my mind, how Yvonne was, how she felt, what she wanted to be in life. My knowledge of this reality is based on the novel Nova created, I don't know the living people here personally. I don't personally know how they grew up, and even though they're book characters for Nova, they're still human beings. Creatures with a soul and life give

he corrected, his tone low, teasing. And there, in the quiet of our living room—kids asleep, stars glimmering faintly through the curtains—I realized something that made my chest ache in the most beautiful way. We weren’t just surviving anymore. We were living. END OF CHAPTER 122

A paper book rested in his hands while multiple surveillance feeds played silently across the large screen before him, displaying views of both the interior and exterior of the bunker. After the Frostfall, without the burden of work, his life settled into a steady rhythm. He had grown fond of reading. Some books had come from the library. Others had belonged to Severin. The one in his hands now was "Ordinary World" by Lucas Wayworth. Reading it in this era carried a strange weight. The ordinary days described in its pages were gone forever. The ordinary world itself now lay buried beneath endless ice and snow. Yet one thing remained unchanged. Human beings, resilient by nature, would struggl

Belle's perspective. The train ticket took me to a quiet seaside town, where I began a new life. There was a little bookstore in town, and I became the clerk who organized the shelves. The store was always hushed, with only two sounds breaking the silence: the rhythm of waves crashing against the seawall, and the soft rustle of pages turning. Joe's face, Ivy's words, the blinding lights of that celebration banquet–they all began to blur, as though fading into the distance.

It was as if I was showing the living that death was not the end of life, but rather, the beginning of a new journey. My thoughts returned to the day of the accident. The surgery was successful, bringing an end to my tragic life.

If I can't be honest with my best friend, then who can I be honest with. "Just please promise that this stays between us." "Of course. So what is it?" "So, you know I moved out right. My... uhm... neighbor is a guy. And we had a couple of interactions for the past month." I started. I guess I made the right call by not saying that we live under the same roof, 'cause by the look on her face... She's already cooking a story. "Is he hot?" "Seriously?" "It's just a yes or no, Psyche."

They shattered the transparent tempered glass, continuing their descent until they reached the end they had long awaited for 20 years. In their next life, they still wished to be a family. In their next life, they hoped for peace.