Toni Morrison's 1973 Novel Novels & Stories

What kind of person would want to serve a King as vile as that? I ponder many things as we check our bags out of the hotel. We are a small way drive from my mansion in Ithaca, New York. It takes me two minutes to decide to head in that direction. I tell Marcus that I want to stop at my old Mansion before heading back to Chicago. He says he will wait in the car if he is not needed. The home has been closed up for quite some time. The original caretakers have passed on, and I have not had the opportunity to hire someone new. This place was to be our home after we left England for America. This is the mansion of Eliza's dreams. I wish I could have lived here with her. Everything happens for a r

"Go." He stands. His legs are unsteady. He has to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling. For a moment, he just looks at me—this broken, bleeding, burning woman in the corner of a dungeon cell. His face is a mask of grief and guilt and something that looks like love. Then he turns. He walks to the door. He doesn't look back. The door closes. The lock turns. And I am alone with the fire and the darkness and the terrible, burning knowledge that the man who saved my life as a child just poisoned me to save his own.

Donovan had not come begging for it. Perhaps he was too ashamed. Perhaps he did not even know about it, or perhaps my mother-in-law had finally understood something. Either way, my connection to her ended with that money and the prepaid fees. It would be the best ending if both of us could find peace. The evening glow filtered through the balcony glass door, painting the living room in warm golden orange. I stood up, slid open the glass door, and stepped onto the balcony. The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the fresh scent of early summer plants growing.

She stopped the song and opened a reading and writing app on her phone. All of the books she wrote there were all inspired by Tayo but she didn’t know if she could continue writing the books. She checked the poetry, it was already having many reads. The only person she wanted to show the books wasn't there anymore, he took all the inspiration to write with him. She decided to delete the books which she did in less than two minutes, then she uninstalled the app. "There's no more Tayo, Wunmi.” She reminded herself as she was having second thoughts on deleting the book. *I damn hate this feeling, why did I ever allow myself to love a guy?* She thought to herself as she kept her phone in her sch

"If I had thought less of you, I wouldn't have helped you. To me, it doesn't matter if someone is poor or rich. We're all equals." However, she would not listen. She just kept laughing and saying I would be stuck here forever, suffering. … Lucia's words seemed to come true. At this point, I did not think I could ever get out. I did not know what to do. All I did was sit there, day in and day out. When I got unbearably bored, I counted sheep in my head. After three long days, a man showed up that night. He sneaked in through the window while the nurses were asleep and whisked me away in his car.

There are larger battles than desire. By the time I reached the northern ridge where my aunt lived, I had calmed enough to remember why I needed her. If anyone held the truth about my bloodline, it was her. Her cottage sat under the twisted boughs of a dead oak, the air thick with herbs and smoke. She was waiting for me, as though she had already known I’d come. Her eyes, pale and sharp like winter ice, fixed on me the moment I entered. “You look tired,” she said, her voice like gravel.

"Sasha, she ... needs you." Eustone stopped slicing and glance to Mrs Braun, surprised. "Sasha don't seem to be needing somebody." "She just act tougher but she's really soft like a marshmallow. She's just like that because someone had betrayed her and now she couldn't trust." Couldn't trust? He asked himself. Who the hell betrayed her and made everything hard for him? "I would never do that to her, I swear," he crossed his heart that made Mrs Braun smile. "I know... but he did."

Her father is hardly ever home, working long hours in the city while her mother spends most of her time grading papers from all of her high school students. She opens the door quietly, but there is no need. Her mother is still awake. She's curled up in the living room reading her latest adventure novel wrapped on the comfy (and dare she call ugly) recliner her father just had to have. Her curly auburn hair is up in a bun with a few stray strands spiraling free as her eyes intently scan the new Kindle she received for her birthday only a few weeks ago. It's safe to say she has become a little obsessed with it. Can't say Sera can blame her. She herself escapes to a different world every time s