Waiting To Exhale Book Novels & Stories

By the looks of the almost empty display, it’d turned out to be a good gamble. Anyway, a sarcastic remark was brewing but before I could speak, I heard the click-hiss of Bobby’s inhaler and saw him snag a copy. He stuck his inhaler into his front jeans pocket, opened the hideously yellow book and began flipping through it. I stood there, working my jaw, as if chewing a particularly troublesome piece of cud. Bobby eagerly flipped through the book’s pages, which I noticed were gilt a glittering golden-yellow along the edges. Finally I swallowed and managed, “Are you kidding me, Bobby? You’re not actually gonna . . . ”

I dump my bag on the floor and read through the shelf while pulling books out and mumble as I go. ‘Even a book can be dangerous in the wrong hands.’ ‘Ignite.’ ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ ‘You’ll make bad choices. Sometimes you’ll choose the best of bad ones.’ ‘Tuesday is Fucked.’ ‘Everything’s a game. And now it’s your turn.’ I have a stack of about 10 books before I abruptly stop. "Next isle." I say and we walk up and down the library isles. I climb and jump to get books off of shelves and Aidan has to catch me a couple of times when I fell.

The morning arrived wrapped in a kind of muted anticipation, the air holding its breath like the city itself was waiting to exhale. I stood by the long window that stretched across the east wall of the loft, watching as light crept up the steel frames of high-rises and softened their edges. Below, delivery trucks eased along the curb, and the occasional pedestrian moved with a kind of brisk solitude. But up here, everything remained still. The loft held its quiet like a sealed room, the kind where a single truth might land and shift the air forever.

"It will take us at least thirty minutes to get back home and they said at midnight. By the time we get home, it will be almost eleven then we would only have to wait an hour. There's something I need to check within that hour." Darius nodded his head. "I'll say goodbye to the ex beta then. The rest of you can wait here." Duke let out a sigh and relaxed into his seat while Dean nodded his head. Darius rose to his feet and walked away from their table. I held the books firmly, feeling the frame through the cloth bag. I couldn't wait to read the book and find out more about the soil feeders. Everything I desperately wanted to know was written inside the book and the impatience in me to read it

And at the heart of it all stood Willow & Ink. *** The bookstore looked… perfect. Alex stood just outside the entrance, arms folded, though the gesture did little to mask the restless energy running through him. His gaze kept drifting down the road—again and again—as though sheer willpower might make the car appear faster. “They’ll be here,” Amara said softly from beside him. He exhaled. “I know.” But knowing didn’t make the waiting easier. Behind them, the others had gathered naturally, as if drawn by the same invisible thread.

He thought: the bench has been waiting since Ellie drew it. He thought about all the honest elements waiting — the corner step and the kitchen hatch and the corridor sill in the school and all the honest elements in all the honest rooms still waiting for the attending bodies that would confirm them. He thought about the waiting as the preparation — the room waiting for the person the way December waited for the light. He thought: the honest element waits without impatience. He thought: waiting is part of the preparation. He was glad. End of Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Three

I walked down the stairs and out into the cold corridor and did not look back, and behind me in the east wing library a man sat at a table with a closed notebook and an expression that had lost every last trace of its composure — something bare and warm and entirely unguarded existing on his face in the empty room, with no audience, nothing managed, just the specific, quiet devastation of someone who has been waiting for a very long time and has just been told, in the most precise and undecorated language possible, that the waiting was not one-sided — and he sat in that knowledge alone in the lamplight with his hands flat on the table, breathing carefully, like a man who has just been handed

“Yes. Stay awake.” His eyelids flickered. I shook him. “Alexander.” His breathing slowed. And I lost it. “Fight.” My voice cracked. “You fight for everything else. Fight for this. Fight for me.” His hand squeezed mine. Weak. But there. And I held on. The Longest Wait Hospitals smelled like endings. Like places where people held their breath and prayed. I didn’t sit. Couldn’t. I paced the waiting room, hands shaking, my pulse pounding loud enough to drown out everything else.

the stranger said but when he started to move away, Olliver grabbed his arm and whined, "Skaiii..wait ten minutes?" The stranger jutted his chin out, "You have five.." Olliver smiled and turned to move back to the experiment and that is when he noticed Smith standing there slack-jawed. "Oh pick up your jaw Smithson. This is not a theatre and a fly might just go into your mouth!"

Before I can say anything, I notice him stop in his tracks and turn his head to look towards me. Not wasting any time , I place my book right on the couch, careful not to miss my place and rise to my feet, I start towards him and hold my breath, hoping he won't just pass me by. I almost sigh out loud in relief when he doesn't and remains where he is.