Write A Story Novelas e Histórias

Ria and Luca, Jade, Finn… they are not just words anymore, they are people, maybe forever. This story also teach me many things. About patience, about creativity, about human feeling. About love. About danger. About happiness. I learn that writing is not easy, is not only fun, is work, struggle, but also reward. When I write scene, I feel tired but also happy, like I just live thousand lives in one life. I think that is why writing story is special, because no money, no fame, can make me feel this way. Only story, only characters, only readers.

Her words flowed effortlessly, painting a new story—the story of Theo and Mama Hazel, of nighttime adventures and endless dreams, of love that knew no bounds and a bond that transcended the ordinary. As she penned the final lines of the story, a sense of peace settled within Mama Hazel. The power of storytelling had once again worked its magic, not only in Theo's dreams but also in her own heart, reaffirming the timeless truth that the greatest stories are those written with love, shared with joy, and woven into the fabric of our lives.

The sound was sharp, satisfying. I made tea. Took a long shower. Then opened my laptop and started writing. Not for anyone. Just for me. I wrote about the girl who was left on the roadside. The girl in the orphanage. The girl who worked two shifts just to eat. The girl who failed and tried again. The girl who found her voice. I didn’t finish the story. Not yet But I began, and that was something, one day at a time.

But she had to. She slowly walked over to the bed and sat down. Her hands trembled as she opened the cover. She flipped through the pages, past the short poems, the little love scenes, and the silly dialogues she had written just for fun. Then she stopped at page forty. Her stomach dropped. That was where the first real erotic story started. She stared at the words. Her face burned. It was something she wrote late one night, out of boredom… or curiosity. She never meant for anyone to see it.

I suddenly started to feel nervous. "Hi Amarachi, I'm your literature teacher. My name is Miss Ada. Welcome to Crownstar highschool." I smiled at her. "So who doesn't have a seat partner? A girl raised her hands and Miss Ada asked me to seat with her. She started teaching and that was when I remembered that I didn't collect the pen my mum bought. I didn't want to ask anyone for a spare pen but then it was my first day at school and I did not want to start skipping notes. I asked the guy at my front for a spare pen but he didn't have any one. The girl beside him smiled and gave me a pen, I thanked her and started writing.

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.