What We Lose Novel Novels & Stories

Because losing? Not an option.

But I remembered that night when I was drunk—Andre hadn't called me his "sister" We stayed in Newsville for seven days. We'd sleep in late each day, go out for lunch, stroll through the streets, watch the ocean, and stay out until midnight before returning. Those seven days were the most relaxed I had felt in years. During that time, I came to terms with many things. It would be a lie to say I wasn't sad. Every night, I asked myself the same question Andre had once asked me, "Do you regret it?" I knew what he meant, and I finally gave him my answer a week later.

“Ma’am… that was the third major client this morning.” Sophia didn’t respond right away. Her fingers slowly tightened around the edge of her desk. “Say that again,” she said quietly. The assistant swallowed nervously. “They’re saying the company is collapsing… that our funding has been pulled… and that anyone who stays with us will suffer losses.” Sophia’s eyes darkened. “That’s ridiculous.” “I know,” the assistant replied quickly. “But the rumors are spreading faster than we can contain them.” Sophia turned toward the glass wall overlooking the office floor.

They were all telling her that they'd be there but they don't really know when to be there for her. Just like when her cousin Kendal used to tell her that she has got her back. Just like when her only best friend at school said that they will always be friends. Just when Fred said I'll be right here. Where are they? Gone. Kendal gave up on her. The only one whom she considered her best friend found new friends in college and forgot about her. Fred? He's probably seeking the things she could not give him, his needs. Ah fuck needs! "Stop it, Brie," she whispers to herself. "Stop thinking about those people who weren't bothered when they lost you." She sniffed, slight smoke coming from her mout

Honour Where are we? There's no clues for me discern. The only sight is black aside from the orange red glow beyond our eyelids. The only sound the rush of blood in our ears. Smell. What is that smell? There's earth, we're used to that. But what else? It's sweet, but not to eat. It makes me think of colors. We don't see colors often. It bring to mind the color of Carla's hair clip. The one with the plants, what did she call them? Purple flowers. She called it wist.. something. Wisteria? Yeah, purple wisteria.

She died in her throne chair, with her bloody crown on her head, they made her body the spectacle of the kingdom reminding the power not only The Royal Blood can have. Yubin was sure that this is that novel. The title of the book was 'Lost Queen' a tragic romance story, written by: Olavier Belet an English/Japanese author... The novel he wrote was about 20 years ago, it was a novel it never got the ideal reads since it can't be read below 18-year-old, this book has too many fetish scenes and blood that might cause a child to dream a nightmare... So it was privately banned, so few people we're able to get this book before it gets banned.

" I'm jealous that you get to speak to my wife whenever you want to speak to her because I only got to speak to her this morning and I didn't tell her that I was lying down to cape Town or did you tell her that I am in cape Town and I am spending time with the kids because she was worried that I was going to be home alone and Johannesburg and there was no one who was going to be with me and help me through whatever the hell I'm going through which is new to me. " "Being afraid of losing something is not new to you ,being afraid of losing what you have is not new to you, they are two different things, the first one is temporary and the latter is permanent because you've already attained it.

And us: the secret lovers, the fleeing couple, the rush-job marriage. We were losing. We were being buried under the crushing, respectable weight of Clara Finch’s narrative. And the gavel hadn’t even fallen yet.

Iris did not loose virginity, she killed her inner self, lost her sanity, lost her faith in humanity, she lost trust in people, she lost feeling called life, lost her whole being. If there was anything else to loose, she would have lost that too

John had indeed lost her on a poker table as if she was nothing but another of his belongings just like his watch or an old table. She pushed his chest with all her might but failed. It was her end. In this world where women were progressing, she was traded off on a poker table. She smirked at her fate. She was nothing. Nothing, but a lost bet. Her body gave up and she lied there while he assaulted her neck. She wasn’t moving at all. Fuck, what is this new tantrum. He looked at her face. She was crying. “Can you stop crying?” But she cried harder.