When I Sixty Four Novels & Stories

Tasha, who was about my age and lived next door, threw her door open and bellowed. “Go to hell! Do you think being sixty years old means you’re one foot in the grave already? We can easily live another twenty years, but not with someone like you though! Living just a year with you is hell! “Quit whining and scram! I’m done listening to you complaining!” My son was no match for Tasha. His objections were caught in his throat and he ended up having to scurry away with his head hung low.

"So here's how this is going to work. You have sixty days. Sixty days to fall in love with me, to accept your role as my wife, and to give me an heir." I opened my mouth, but he continued before I could form words. "Or I take what I want anyway. Your choice." Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than if he'd slammed it. I sank down onto the floor among the scattered cosmetics and broken glass, my white dress pooling around me, and for the first time since my parents died, I let myself cry. Not the quiet tears I'd shed at their funeral while cameras flashed. These were ugly, desperate sobs that shook my entire body.

Ugh! End of chapter 64

Not only did I survive the Arctic’s bitter cold for three months, but I gained five pounds as well. Color returned to my pasty face. The hair I lost in clumps due to anxiety had grown back with a vengeance. Tyler observed the data I had compiled and patted my shoulder emotionally. “Naomi, you’re meant to work in this field. I see the light in your eyes again.” I stared at the spectacular northern lights outside the window and smiled. That was right. I felt alive again. One evening on a weekend, I checked the time difference and FaceTimed my parents.

he said, pressing his temples gently. "In my entire life, I've never felt so overwhelmed by a woman. How can she be so crazy and difficult to handle? Even her own parents have given up on her. Now they've handed over the responsibility to me. My fate is truly unfortunate." He sighed heavily, feeling that the problems in his late twenties were more suffocating. Compared to his early twenties, the late twenties felt more burdensome because problems came one after another. And it didn't stop there; his mind continued to wander through the night in his home.

“Have a seat. Do you need anything? Coffee? Tea? Wat—“ “I didn’t come to chit-chat.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and leveled me with her stare. “I got your latest email.” I winced. Another revise and resubmit. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. I—“ “I’m not getting any younger, you know.” She patted her scarlet hair. “I just turned sixty-nine last week.” “Happy birthd—“ “Thank you.” She smiled to take the sting out of her interruption. “The point is, I don’t want to reach seventy, seventy-five, eighty, still trying to get this dream off the ground.”

I am 18, not 16. ----------------------

"Sixteen." "Go on," I say and pick up my glass again. I suddenly realize I need the fog the alcohol brings as much as Angel does. She was fucking sixteen when she went to some dirty old man. I need to have a grip on the sudden burst of anger that's spreading through me.

"I'm still shocked, I can feel my heartbeat getting faster. Who would have thought I would see you after 10 years?" "Ah, yes," Bliss smiled, staring at the few stars glistening in the dark sky. She sighed, tightening her hold on the younger's arm. "So you're now 23 years old. I can still recall your innocent, doe eyes like it was yesterday, now you're already wearing glasses." Megan laughed, shaking her head. "I spent a lot of nights on my laptop, I'm an architect, you know? And not to brag but," she winked, "I'm really, really famous."

“But take it from me, your good buddy. Money makes the world go round. What good is your academic prowess? If I hadn’t gotten married, then you wouldn’t even be allowed in this hotel! “Those girls you looked down on back then? You can’t even lick their boots now. This is where I’m better than you because I’m marrying a good wife, and I can walk sideways in Cirrus. “But hey, don’t get discouraged. When you see my wife later, I’ll get you a job as a security guard at Jefferson Corp.” I stared at him coldly. The higher he preened, the harder he’d crash. Just then, my phone rang. The funeral wreaths had arrived.