Novelas y relatos de Word Choice

--- A flicker of movement. --- A sign— --- That something in her was still there. --- Still fighting. --- But weak. --- Fading. --- “You said choice matters,” the voice continued. --- Closer now. --- Clearer. --- “Then choose.” --- The word echoed through the void. --- Simple. --- Familiar. --- And heavy with meaning. --- Because she had said that. --- Believed it. --- Built everything on it. --- Choice. --- But now— --- Now it felt different.

ONE MOMENT IT IS RAINING THE NEXT MOMENT THE SUN IS SHINING, SOME PEOPLE SAY CAPE TOWN WEATHER IS LIKE A WOMAN'S MOOD, ALWAYS CHANGING. SHE WENT TO SIT DOWN AND PLACED HER CUP ON A COASTER ON THE COFFEE TABLE. SHE TOOK A DEEP BREATH IN AND SLOWLY BREATHED IT OUT AGAIN. SHE WANTED TO CLEAR HER THOUGHTS. SHE NEEDED TO DECIDE WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO DO. SHE COULDN'T KEEP THIS SITUATION GOING. SHE NEEDED TO MAKE A CHOICE. SHE KNEW SHE LOVED BOTH AND SHE LOVED THEM IN DIFFERENT WAYS. THEY WERE BOTH SO DIFFERENT, SHE JUST COULDN'T BRING HERSELF TO CHOOSE.

I asked a little annoyed that someone else was meant to be hers “If you had to pick between going to the beach or going to the mountains which, would you pick?” she asked “that’s a hard one I like both? Can I pick both?” I asked “Nope you have to pick one” she smirked “Okay the mountains, you?” it was a hard one I enjoyed both so I just said the first one that came to me

He eventually placed it back into my hands and I'm met with the words THE CHOICE staring back at me. I hadn't read this one. And that alone lured me in to soak in the words on the page as I delve deeper into where my brother's thoughts laid in his view of the world. I apologize if my very existence offends. That forces of creation subjected you To deal with sharing the ground with me. I pity all challenges you faced, The burn your eyes feel as you gaze upon me Whilst painting me below the scope of mediocrity. Still it puzzles me, how you punish my lack of inability.

with a hint of irritation in her voice. Kevin was going to argue back but saw me coming and asked me, “Alright let’s see what lily chooses, so lily apple or banana?” looking hopeful that I will choose banana. I looked between them and said, “Come on guys people can like both, it’s not like fruits get offended.” rolling my eyes, “Now come on I’m hungry.” They nodded but continued arguing, they didn’t even hear what I said. I just shook my head at their childish act and followed them checking my phone for any messages. I saw messages from my friends asking me if I liked the town, the school and how was my day.

I’ve heard a saying that goes thus; if you want to make enemies, choose them wisely. I don’t believe I chose mine wisely. And I don’t believe there’s a saying like that actually… But it still makes sense because I could have chosen enemies who were less powerful and cruel so that my life’s predicament wouldn’t be as brutal. But I went ahead and did the opposite. But then again, sometimes, we are choiceless when it comes to selecting our enemies. Sometimes, it just happens naturally and we find random cruel people hunting us down and aiming to destroy our lives.

For his part, Grayson was looking at me as if I were all he could see. “Don’t look at my father, dusukunni,” he advised, using the Eswen word for sweetheart. Did he forget he taught me how to speak Eswali? “I can guarantee doing so will only bring you nightmares.” He winked at me. “I speak from experience.”

"I put the peanut powder in the drink and stabbed Jackie in the storeroom." The hall fell silent, and a trace of undisguised joy flickered in Jackie's eyes. Violet snorted. "Finally, you admit it! Now, apologize to Jackie on your knees!" I ignored her. She had no idea that if I truly wanted him dead, I wouldn't even need to poison him. I just had to speak. Like this. I slowly looked up at Jackie, and my lips moved...

I am speaking about it now. He thought about what it had taken to write that sentence. Not the writing of it — Alexander could write; he had the precise economical style of someone who had learned early that language was a tool and should be used as one, that the most powerful sentences were often the shortest, that every word should earn its place. The writing was the easy part. The writing was just putting one word after another. The choosing was the hard part.

certain. “Choose what makes it worth it.” The mark flared. strong. because now it had something to connect to. not safety. not control. meaning. The flicker stabilized. slowly. carefully. because now it wasn’t just expanding. It was forming correctly. My breath steadied. because I felt it. the difference. the way this choice held. stronger. more real. “I want a world where choice matters,” I said. The words firm now. grounded. “And where what you choose has meaning.”