Unscramble Unable Novels & Stories

She looked like a knocked out contestant in a motorcycle race. "Fermarsi.'' The weird lady painting in front kept on repeating. Her hands are still on her knees. "Who are you and why are you following me?" Dale asked, pointing her weapon at the strange woman. "Scendere." The lady began panicking. Her hands were stretched forth navigating something. "What!" Dale wondered at her sudden gibberish attitude. She kept on scanning her attitude to understand what she meant. "I don't understand, could you speak English!" Dale yelled back at her.

"Shit! Primo, you just sounded like a gay!" ******* Avianna's POV "Damn it! How is this done, Hope?" I irritatedly asked Hope over the phone, I feel so bad right now, because the onion and garlic I was roasting were burnt again, before I could even put the rice. ["I already explained to you so many times, Avi! Saute the garlic and onion first!"]

She seemed sad, a broken sort of emotion overcoming her features. I felt a trickle of shame run down my neck, as I stared at the dejection in her eyes. She pulled her hair up, thread tangled between her fingers, which she quickly twisted off, carefully tucking them away into a patchwork bag, with other scraps of fabric. “Heron. I can’t just go to anyone. I need it to be believable for my father. All of the women I know would take the opportunity and run with it, but they could never convince my father. They’re not-“

The mother checked the progress of her daughter who was unpacking things in the room. Some boxes are open, and chaos in the room can be seen in various directions. "No mom." The girl looked around to confirm one by one the contents of the box that had been scrambled by herself. "I guess..." She faltered at the end, unsure if her memory might be wrong.

Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and with a sudden jolt, she realized she had to get to the bathroom, and fast. Frantically, she staggered to her feet and rushed towards the bathroom. Her steps were unsteady, and the room seemed to spin around her. It was a race against time as she barely reached the toilet before her stomach rebelled. She retched, heaving out the remnants of last night's poor decisions, each gag echoing in the small bathroom.