Woman Reading Novels & Stories

The woman was dressed in grey joggers and a sweatshirt; she had one leg crossed over the other, her back relaxed on the couch, with one hand on her chin. Kayla couldn't help but notice how strict the woman looked. Her dark hair with streaks of white that were barely visible in a tight bun gave the aura of a powerful matriarch who commanded respect simply by her energy alone. Her voice was soft, yet there was a heavy landing to every word she said. The weakest of minds would crumble in the presence of such a dominating presence, but Kayla was intrigued. Just as the woman stared at her, Kayla stared back with the same vigor, seemingly impressed by the woman's aura. She was still anxious, but i

It was much larger than the others. "The Doctor is the sickness in our story " the man said. "The Doctor must be put away forever." Benson saw the man. Screamed Maya’s name. He fired his weapon. He was too far away. The man raised the block to hit her. A woman stepped out from, behind the man. She was not wearing a suit. She was wearing a sweater and thick glasses. It was the Writer.. She looked different. She looked like she was made of shadows and television static.

Some conversations require isolation. The woman is waiting in the center of the warehouse. She's smaller than Alessandra expected, and younger. Maybe thirty. Black jeans, dark jacket, a gun visible at her hip like a piece of jewelry or a promise. Her dark hair is pulled back, and her eyes -- when Alessandra gets close enough to see them -- are the color of storm clouds.

And just like that a blurry voice and an image that she assumed that was part of her memory appeared in her mind. 'A woman's worth is more than a man could never work for. A woman is a powerful person who gives light. A woman has been given a womb and a man's part and yet she can give life. A woman has been given a house and yet she made it a home that is full of warmth. A woman is someone who was given a simple thing but can give back precious treasures. A woman has never been worthless. Always remember you are a woman. And you are worth it"

Mary snapped, losing her patient, “just because it's not white, doesn't mean it's black, Amber." "I don't understand," I said. "What I was trying to say is..., women in our circumstances need to be smart. Know better, know how to keep our life in line and...," Hanna then lowered her lips to my ears. "We lure them in then get things done quietly," I flinched. Her warm breath tickled me.

Not at a desk, not posed with deliberation, but sitting in the particular natural way of someone who has been somewhere for a while and is still there — the posture of someone who is in the middle of something rather than at its end or its beginning. Her face was not visible. The silhouette was complete but the features were not — and this, Adaeze understood immediately, was right. This was the right choice. Because the woman in the silhouette was not her specifically. Was not any specific woman. Was the woman in the dark. Every woman in the dark. The woman who was reading messages she was never supposed to see and sitting at a kitchen counter with her hand flat against the cool surface maki

Realizing I wouldn't budge, his tone sharpened as he tried to persuade me again. "If you won't answer it, I will!" I pushed his hands away and made a move to get out of bed to head for the door. Yet, he abruptly seized me, attempting to forcefully shove me into the bathroom. I tried to break free from his hold, but the difference in strength between us was overwhelming. As he was about to force me inside, the front door was kicked open from the outside. The very next second, a young woman in a white dress stormed in with several netizens, who were holding up their phones and livestreaming everything. The young woman was the original poster herself, a third-year medical student named Elowen J

The screen flickered to life, showing a woman with seductive, half-lidded eyes, whom I recognized as me. The video was recorded in a familiar setting—the clinic, during one of Rodrick's treatments for my illness. A woman's moan came from the video. I looked at the two of them and asked, "What do you want to do?" Colby took a step forward. "You've got to help us out, Brianna. You're a huge hit on foreign internet sites now, and men are crazy about you." He held up his hand and named a figure. "We'll give you this much for one night."

Nobody moves. That's the second time this has happened in my room today and my room is eighty square feet and was a storage closet and is not built for the weight of what keeps arriving in it. The woman in the doorway doesn't move either. White hair. Simple clothes — no ceremonial anything, no rank markers, nothing that says what she is except the way she stands, which says everything. The ease of someone who has never once in their life worried about who was watching. She is watching me.

Adelmo shouts and immediately begins to cough several times leaving us all scared. Let him talk, please. Everyone looks to the entryway when a woman's voice is heard speaking. My focus is drawn to an older woman with shoulder-length brown hair, black suede shoes, and an all-black outfit. She resembles a businesswoman more than any other type of woman. When I look at her face, I notice that she has a slight smirk on her lips. You've got to be kidding me, right? Angered, Ann asks, "What the fuck are you doing here?"