#shortnovels

[reject-cast-dakotafinely]

Reject Cast: Game Face | Chapter 3: He Has Courage (4/10)

Lemao's finally free from the grips of middle school. Her label as a reject not as daunting anymore. She's moving onto a new challenge: Surviving high school. But this time she's on her own, no friends in sight. The silver lining this time? She's prepared.

Or, she was, until a group of boys find their way into her life. Not leaving despite the dangers Lemao's current life possesses. She's eager to keep them around as much as she's eager to shoo them away. In the end, what will she do?

[edgeofheavenshortnovel]

Chapter 2 - Begin Again

“Babe, you’re going to be late for work.” 

Andy woke up from Patrice’s elbow nudging him. 

“Wait, Trizzy?” his thoughts were in shock. He was in shock.

“What the heck is she doing curled up beside me in bed? She’s supposed to be in the morgue because she hung herself.” his thought continued to confuse him.

“This is a dream,” he declared.

“Yes, babe,” she sat upright facing him, “This is a dream, and it has finally come true!”

She wore her brightest smile yet, and her eyes were twinkling in excitement. She looked like an anime character with that comical grin.

“Wait. Okay, so this is real and that was just a dream?” Andy scratched his head confused.

“I think you had a nightmare,” she said concerned.

“How do you know I had a nightmare?”

“I don’t. I just think you did because you look so confused.”

“Okay. Sorry… Yeah, I guess I had a nightmare.”

“What did you dream about?”

“It was weird…”

“Yeah? So tell me.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“Of course, I do!”

“No… I don’t even want to think about it. It was terrible.”

Patrice’s face smudged. She was annoyed that Andy wouldn’t tell her.

“You dreamt of someone else, didn’t you?” Patrice was being forceful now as she leaned in closer to his face.

“I did not,” Andy said annoyed.

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Fine. I’ll tell you. But don’t get upset, okay?”

“I won’t be. It’s just a dream.”

“I dreamt that when I got home from work, I found you hanging in your writing room.”

“Hanging as in hanging out? Or hanging as in I killed myself?”

“You killed yourself, Trizzy,” he let out a huge sigh and hugged his fiancee. 

“Why?”

“Exactly. I didn’t know why you hung yourself, you didn’t leave a suicide note. And your diaries and journals were nowhere to be found.”

“Wow. I must’ve been depressed.”

“You think that could have been the reason?”

“Yeah, probably. I mean, if I wanted to kill myself I would at least leave a note or something to let you all know why I did it. But not leaving anything including my diaries and journals, it must be something really deep that I am too ashamed to let anyone know.”

She explained it as if there was an underlying reason behind it.

Andy got concerned and pulled her in for a tighter hug and kissed her forehead.

“Look, babe. If there is anything that you want to tell me, especially if it’s something going on in your brain, don’t hesitate to tell me. Okay?”

Patrice just looked at him farcically, a smile still stuck on her face.

“I’m serious,” Andy noted and kissed her on her lips. 

“Okay, babe.” she kissed him back on the lips.

“But, you have to get up and get ready for work. I’ll meet you downstairs, I’ll make you breakfast and lunch.” Patrice slid off from his arms and walks out of the bedroom.

Andy followed her up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

As the water rained down on Andy’s face and his body, his dream replayed.

Andy was a dreamless sleeper. And in rare cases where he did dream, he easily forgets them when he wakes up and goes about his day.

This dream was too vivid to forget. It seemed so real. It didn’t feel like a dream to him at all. It felt like he was living in the moment.

He shook the dream off his mind and continued to shower and then got dressed for work. 

He went down to the kitchen to the smell of honey-cured bacon and freshly-cooked egg-fried rice. 

“Babe, eat your breakfast. I’m just making you orange chicken for lunch.” Patrice said to Andy as she set a plate of egg-fried rice and four strips of bacon on the dining table. 

“And take your vitamins,” she put a tiny saucer in front of Andy with a bunch of vitamins on it. 

Andy had finished his breakfast and Patrice was just done packing his lunch bag.

He got up from the dinner table and kissed Patrice before leaving to the garage to his black Kia Sportage.

“Kia... in my dream this was my car a year prior to when it supposedly took place and my Subaru was just recently bought.”

Patrice followed to say goodbye to him.

As Andy was backing out of the garage he stopped leveling to where Patrice stood and said, “In my dream, I drove a black Subaru Ascent.”

“My dream car!” Patrice giddily said.

“See you later, babe. You better be alive when I get home.” 

“We’ll see.” Patrice laughed.

“I’m serious.” Andy retorted. 

“See you!” Patrice waved as he drove off to the road to work.

At the office, Andy had to stay late again to figure out a bug that was on the system. He was getting fed up with him and his team not being able to track this error down.

Bill the janitor walked in with a broom and a dustpan and started sweeping the office floor. 

As Bill was approaching his desk, he stopped and faced Andy. “Rough day?”

“Could be better,” Andy replied.

“Well, at least you can come home to a lovely house, a hearty dinner that your fiancee prepared, and relax for the rest of the evening.” Bill chuckled at Andy.

And then his dream flashed. 

“Wait. I have to make a phone call to Trizzy,” Andy said looking suddenly overwhelmed in shock. “This conversation was in my dream.” his memory of his dream surged.

Bill looked at him confused and continued to sweep the floor.

Andy took out his phone and called his house number.

He could not believe Bill just said exactly what he said to him in his dream.

The phone kept ringing.

“Come on, Trizzy. Answer the phone,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hello?” 

It was Patrice’s voice on the other line. 

“Oh, thank God! Hi.” Andy sighed in relief.

“Hey, babe! What’s up?” Patrice sounded her usual bubbly self on the other line.

“Nothing, just checking in.”

“Good that you called! But strange because you’re calling me on the house phone. Haha!”

“I was just checking to see if our telephone still works.” Andy lied to not give off a weird vibe.

“It’s working alright. Anyway, babe, what do you want for dinner? I was planning to either make bolognese pasta or chicken curry. Which of the two are you craving?”

“Chicken curry!”

“Mmm. My favorite! Alright. What time are you coming home?”

“I’m about to just leave,” Andy said as he gathered his things and his lunch bag to leave the office. 

“Okay, great! I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“Yes. But Trizzy, do you mind calling me on your cellphone and just you know, stay on the line until I get home?” he asked his fiancee as he was turning off his work computer and pushing his chair back to his desk.

“Someone misses me. You’re too sweet!”

“Yeah, will you?”

“Yeah. Let me just go get my phone in the kitchen and I’ll call you right back.”

“Thanks, babe.”

And Patrice hung up on the other line.

Andy waited for Patrice to call back as he was walking out of the office door.

“See you tomorrow, Bill.”

“See you, Sir.”

His phone rang and he quickly answered.

“Babe!” he said over the phone.

“What’s up with you, anyway?” Patrice sounded a little concerned.

“Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice as I come home.”

“You’re weird. Did your dream get to you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Okay. So I’m just washing the chicken meat and just preparing the veggies. Do you want it mildly spicy or super spicy?”

“Mild,” Andy was entering the elevator door. “Babe, I’m entering the elevator now so it might get a little choppy but stay on the line with me, okay?”

“Yeah.”

The call got disconnected as he arrived in the basement parking.

“Shit,” Andy exclaimed.

He quickly jogged to his Kia Sportage, got in, strapped his seatbelt on, and started the engine.

“Why is there no signal down here?” he was annoyed at the thought.

As soon as he exited the basement parking, he immediately called Patrice back.

It rang once and Patrice answered.

“The call got disconnected,” she tells him.

“Yeah, there’s no signal down in the basement. Anyway, I am driving now.” 

“It’s not safe to use your phone while driving, silly.”

“You’re on loudspeaker. It’s fine.”

“Okay. Drive safely, babe.”

“Yeah, of course. And babe, can you walk me through the steps in cooking chicken curry while you’re on it?”

“Sure! So right now, I am just pre-cooking the chicken meat by pan-frying them along with some onions, garlic, ginger, salt, and ground pepper. To render the excess chicken oil and to make sure the chicken is already cooked and flavored when I add to the curry sauce.”

“Sounds basic.”

“That’s because it is!”

“How many minutes do you pan-fry it?” Andy asked as he made a left turn exiting the city’s IT center. 

“I honestly don’t know. I just wing it most of the time. When I feel like it’s done.” Patrice giggled embarrassed over the phone.

“Haha! So you just wing it. How are you supposed to say that if you’re writing a recipe book?”

“Uhmmm… feel the meat? Listen to the sizzle and smell the cookedness of the meat.”

“Cookedness? Is that a new word you invented?” Andy asked amused.

“Yeah, I’m going to put it in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.”

“And on a scale of one to ten, how is your chicken’s cookedness at the moment?”

“Oh wait, tenderness! I meant to say tenderness. Smell the tenderness of the meat.”

“I like ‘cookedness’ better,” Andy remarked as he was making his way toward his everyday shortcut to the subdivision.

“I think this is tender enough. It smells tender enough and all the excess oil is rendered.”

“So now you’re going to make the curry sauce?”

“Yup. Doing it right now. I’ve just set aside the rendered oil and the other stuff in it. So I am just cooking the potatoes and carrots in the same pan.”

“Well, you better cook those potatoes right.”

“I already boiled them to make sure they’re soft.”

“Nice. By the way, I am five minutes away from the subdivision. You think you can finish cooking that as soon as I arrive?”

“Oh, no! I feel pressured! I’ll try.”

“Just listening to you cooking makes me hungry.”

“Well, you’re in luck because I accidentally cooked too much chicken.”

“Curry them all!”

“Tonight is going to be a ‘No Leftover Policy’ dinner.”

“More like ‘Try Your Best To Leave Leftovers Policy’ dinner.” Andy teased.

“We’ll see about that.”

“I’m just driving into the main gate.”

“No worries, I have just added curry powder and the coconut milk.”

“I’m starving just thinking about how the dish smells.”

“Oh, trust me, babe. You’re going to love this.”

“I’m just driving into the garage.”

“You want me to open the garage door for you?”

“No. You’re fine. Just get that hearty dinner ready.”

“Okie dokie.”

“I love you.”

“You’re cute. I love you too.”

Andy disconnected the call and proceeded out of his vehicle to open the garage door.

He had parked his car and was walking toward the front door greeted by the smell of curry mixed with coconut milk.

“This girl can cook.” he thought to himself as he pushed the door open.

“Babe!” Patrice jumped into his arms for a hug and a kiss.

Andy felt a huge relief off his chest as he held his fiancee tight and kissed her forehead.

“I’m still alive!” Patrice teased him.

“Yeah. And I hope you stay alive until you’re 100.”

“Babe, go get changed. And I will be setting the dinner table.”

Andy walked upstairs while Patrice was in the dining room preparing for dinner. 

As he landed on the last flight of the stairs to the second floor, he stopped and looked to his left where Patrice’s writing room was situated.

The image of his fiancee’s hanging body from his dream took over his thoughts and he felt chills running down his nape to his feet.

“Babe! Go on, get changed!”

Andy snapped out of his thoughts.

“If you’re not going to get changed in 10 seconds, you’re going to have a different dinner.” his fiancee grinned mischievously.

Andy went into their bedroom, into their walk-in closet, and got changed into his home wear.

As he walked back downstairs he could smell the savory scent of curry and freshly-cooked Jasmine rice.

The couple enjoyed their dinner and enjoyed the rest of the evening together.

[fanmerchstore]

Best Blog Sites for Kids' Stories: A World of Imagination and Learning

In today’s digital age, the internet has become a treasure trove of resources for children, offering a vast array of educational and entertaining content. Among these resources, kids’ story blogs stand out as a fantastic way to ignite a child’s imagination, foster a love for reading, and provide valuable life lessons through engaging narratives. Whether you’re a parent, teacher, or caregiver, knowing the best blog sites for kids’ stories can help you guide young readers toward content that is both enjoyable and enriching. In this article, we will explore some of the best blog sites for kids’ stories, highlighting what makes each unique and beneficial for young audiences.

wonderkidstales.blogspot.com

wonderkidstales.blogspot.com is a vibrant, family-friendly website that offers a diverse collection of free children’s stories, poems, and fairy tales. The site is designed with young readers in mind, featuring colorful illustrations and easy-to-navigate categories such as “Bedtime Stories,” “Funny Stories,” “Fairy Tales,” and “Poems for Kids.”

One of the standout features of wonderkidstales.blogspot.comis its emphasis on multiculturalism and inclusivity. The stories come from various cultures and traditions, helping children to appreciate diversity and learn about different parts of the world. Each story is carefully curated to include positive messages, moral lessons, and themes that promote kindness, empathy, and understanding.

wonderkidstales.blogspot.com also provides audio versions of many stories, making it accessible for younger children who may not yet be able to read independently. This feature allows kids to listen to stories while following along with the text, helping to develop their reading skills and comprehension.

As its name suggests, wonderkidstales.blogspot.com is a blog dedicated to providing soothing and heartwarming stories perfect for winding down before sleep. The site offers a curated collection of short stories that are easy to read and designed to leave children feeling calm and content. Each story is accompanied by charming illustrations that add to the overall experience.

Bedtime Stories is particularly known for its gentle, feel-good narratives that often focus on themes of love, friendship, and family. The stories are short enough to be read in just a few minutes, making them ideal for bedtime routines. The blog also categorizes stories by age, ensuring that parents can easily find appropriate content for their children.

In addition to traditional text-based stories, Bedtime Stories offers a selection of audio stories, allowing kids to listen as they drift off to sleep. The combination of soothing voices and comforting tales makes this site a favorite among parents looking to create a peaceful bedtime environment for their children.

wonderkidstales.blogspot.com is a treasure trove of free illustrated children’s books and stories, offering something for readers of all ages. The site features a wide variety of content, from simple picture books for preschoolers to more complex stories for older children. Each story is accompanied by vibrant illustrations that help bring the narratives to life.

One of the unique aspects of Magic Keys is its interactive format. Some stories allow children to click on words or images to hear them pronounced or to reveal additional content, making the reading experience more engaging and educational. This interactive approach helps to develop early literacy skills and encourages children to explore stories in a more immersive way.

Magic Keys also offers a selection of educational resources, including reading comprehension questions and vocabulary exercises, making it a valuable tool for teachers and parents who want to reinforce learning through storytelling.

wonderkidstales.blogspot.com is a classic site that has been providing free children’s stories for over two decades. The site features a wide range of stories, from fairy tales and fables to original stories and educational tales. What makes Children’s Storybooks Online stand out is its straightforward, no-frills approach to storytelling, focusing purely on the content without distractions.

The stories on this site are divided into categories based on reading level, making it easy for parents and educators to find suitable material for children at different stages of reading proficiency. Each story is accompanied by simple, yet charming illustrations that complement the text.

Children’s Storybooks Online is a great resource for parents and teachers looking for classic, timeless stories that have stood the test of time. The site’s longevity and dedication to providing quality content make it a trusted source for children’s literature.

Conclusion

The internet is filled with wonderful resources for kids, and the best blog sites for kids’ stories offer a safe, enriching, and entertaining space for young readers to explore. From the diverse, multicultural tales of Storyberries wonderkidstales.blogspot.com to the immersive audio experiences of Storynory, these sites cater to a wide range of interests and reading levels. Whether you’re looking for bedtime stories, educational content, or simply a way to spark your child’s imagination, these blogs provide a treasure trove of narratives that will inspire and delight children of all ages. By exploring these sites, parents and educators can help foster a lifelong love of reading and storytelling in the next generation visit here https://wonderkidstales.blogspot.com/ for more information.

[marvelousm]

Strange's Apprentice (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/324495403-strange%27s-apprentice?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=MichelleT530&wp_originator=KaHwnAuPNTf935EkbNLJgVahy9MsqQCmpOTXVcVk0TzXV88hq0I6VzaLAogi%2BPxMYl2TFoicOKki57hqZzhNHz%2BaCneV6p0KsebogQP8VsQJfWgekII0wfaXRaemHGUL When Doctor Strange suddenly walks into Vanessa's apartment desperately asking for her help, she has no choice but to ditch college and help him save all of Manhattan from Loki's destruction. In return, Strange teaches her the Mystic Arts to benefit her in battle, which ends up bringing the pair closer together. Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Strange or any of the characters or characters affiliated with him, as well as Loki. All rights go to MARVEL. Vanessa, Rachel, Caleigh, Gino, Michael, and the cat-scorpion creature belong to me.

[honeyfeed]

MAL x Honeyfeed Writing Contest 2022 WINNERS!

It’s the time everyone has been waiting for! Honeyfeed is thrilled to announce the winners of the MAL x Honeyfeed Writing Contest Finalists, 2022 edition!

Let’s get started. 

★School Life Prompt Winner ★

Our School is Perfectly Ordinary by yitsuin

★Rom-Com Prompt Winner★

Cupid’s BLAME! by Makech

★Cyberpunk Prompt Winner★

City of Flowers by potadd

Thanks to all who participated. It has been such a blast seeing what you writers can come up with using our prompt boards. All the creativity in each entry made us confident that the writers in our community can take on any writing challenge that comes their way. 

We hope to see you all at our next event!

#winner #writing #contest #school #Cyberpunk #Romance #comedy #Rom-Com #writer #shortnovel #novel #webnovel #lightnovel #otaku #anime #win 

[razishirazi]

About Me

I am Razi Shirazi, A writer and researcher whose concern is a healthy lifestyle as well as a healthy thinking style.

Several years ago I was studying engineering at university and was very happy to be an engineer!

🔧I still like that field, but later found out that engineering disciplines, mathematics and technology, medicine and biology, even Art and its subdivisions and any other field or skill, all in fact, are just tools; nothing more!

💡They are tools for expressing insights and beliefs, forcing some worldviews or anti-worldviews, as well as making series of changes; The changes we want to make in our lives, around us, or even on a larger scale, in the world.

💼 So being just an engineer, or a doctor, or a lawyer, or an artist, or having any other job or position, is not an honor in itself! And it is not the right standard by which to feel valued and successful; Seeing ourselves head and neck higher than the rest!

📌The important thing is how we use those tools and for what "purposes"; In fact, it is important that what "goals" we define for ourselves during our life in this world! And the tools used to achieve those goals become the next priorities.

✏Here I speak with the skill, or in better words, with the "tool" of writing about my concerns and aspirations. Sometimes in the language of novels and stories, sometimes in the language of science and with citing scientific facts, and sometimes in the form of short and instructive sentences, stories and anecdotes that come to my mind or I see here and there.

[krishvino]

#புதிர் #அப்பாவின்_சிநேகிதர் #இன்று_நிம்மதியாகத்_தூங்க_வேண்டும் #சாயம் #பிப்லப்_சௌதுரிக்கு_கடன்_மனு #ரோசம் #முனீரின்_ஸ்பானர்கள் #சில்வியா #இப்போது_வெடித்தது 👌👌 மேல் உள்ள 8 சிறுகதை தொகுப்புக்கு 1996 ஆம் ஆண்டு #சாகித்ய_அகாதமி விருது பெற்ற புத்தகம் #அசோகமித்திரன் #Ashokamitran அருமையான சிறுகதைகள், படித்தால் எழுத்தாளர் சுயசரிதை போல் இருந்தது கூடுதலாக 2 குறுநாவலும் அடங்கும் இந்தப் புத்தகத்தில் #விழா_மாலைப்_போதில் #இன்ஸ்பெக்டர்_செண்பகராமன் எல்லா சிறுகதைகளும் சரியான முடிவு இல்லாமல் முடிவடைகின்றன, இருந்ததும் இது போன்ற கதைகளுக்கு இது ஒரு சிறப்பு 1940 முதல் 1960 வரை பெரும்பாலான கதைகள். செகந்திராபாத் மற்றும் ஹைதராபாத் அப்போதைய நிலவரம் குறித்து நிறைய தகவல்கள் Superb Book, Most of the stories setup mid 1940s to 1960s All short stories finish without a proper ending, but I felt that is special in these stories. #அப்பாவின்_சிநேகிதர் #AppavinSnehidar #ShortStories #Novel #ShortNovels #SahityaAkademi #BookOfTheDay #Lockdown_Reading #VKPK_Reading #தமிழ்_புத்தகம் #Reading (at Bangalore, India) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_9-uxtlFIW/?igshid=vigrokjg1fa0

[bookramblings]

The Portrait

Author: Antoine Laurain

Published by Gallic Books

Format Paperback

My Rating ★★★1/2

From the bestselling author of The President’s Hat & The Red Notebook A mysterious painting holds a wonderful secret…

‘At last, I saw the gavel begin to move. Any second, it would strike…Yes! The portrait was mine.’

While wandering through a Paris auction house, avid collector Pierre-Francois Chaumont is stunned to discover the eighteenth-century portrait of an unknown man who looks just like him.

Much to his delight, Chaumont’s bid for the work is successful, but back at home his jaded wife and circle of friends are unable to see the resemblance.

Chaumont remains convinced of it, and as he researches into the painting’s history, he is presented with the opportunity to abandon his tedious existence and walk into a brand new life…

Antoine Laurain is a Parisian screenwriter, antiques collector, and prize-winning novelist.  

My thoughts:

Having previously enjoyed Antoine Laurain’s other books, I was really pleased to find this book unexpectedly while browsing in one of my favourite bookshops.

The Portrait is indeed another charming little novella from Antoine Laurain, telling the story of a man who purchases an antique portrait that looks just like him. However, he seems to be the only person who can see the physical resemblance, which leads him to begin his research into the history of the portrait, and the true identity of the sitter.

Sadly, though, this one just didn’t really engage me quite as much as the other books I have read by Laurain which were, in my opinion, far more enjoyable. I felt that the plot kind of let this one down, as everything felt a little too far-fetched and unexplained. However, whilst I don't think it was quite as successful or as complex as The Red Notebook, or The President's Hat, I still very much enjoyed the writing style and was fairly engaged from start to finish.

I would describe The Portrait as a light and enjoyable short read, and an interesting story, even though I didn’t enjoy the abrupt and somewhat ambiguous ending. 

It is worth mentioning that in the notes at the back of the book, it is explained that The Portrait was actually Antoine Laurain’s first novel, written while he was working for an antiques dealer. Knowing this, it is obvious to see just how much the author’s writing has improved and developed in his other works. In his later books I love the way his style became much more refined and his characters more developed. 

Antoine Laurain is fast becoming one of my favourite authors, and I love his intelligent and quirky writing. His writing style is very original and his stories provide something unique and extremely different to other short stories I’ve come across recently. I would highly recommend reading his other works, and perhaps giving this one a try afterwards.

Overall reaction:

[namashakewarehouse]

彼女を巡る短い話

（何度来ても立派なマンションだ…） オンドルマールの住む瀟洒なマンションの玄関ロビーへのドアを潜りながらそう思う。無骨なコンクリート風の壁際には水の流れる空間���あり、革張りの待合ソファの横では観葉植物が大振りな葉を広げている。

（イレーナの奴はうちとはちょっと違うとか言ってたが、ま、間違ってはいないな…） ふう、と小さなため息をついてオートロックドアの前のインターホンに手を伸ばし彼の部屋の番号を押す。 （5、0、5…と…） 今日はオンドルマールの部屋に呼ばれての土曜の夕飯だ。彼と一緒に暮らすアナとうちのイレーナが仲が良いということもあり、ここには度々邪魔させてもらっている。私のマンションもそう遠くないことから私と彼もここらのスーパーやどこそこのあれがうまいとか、そういう話もよくするような仲だ。 今日は彼とアナが夕飯を振舞ってくれるということだが手土産に白ワイン一本と家で作ってタッパーに入れたサーモンのマリネ、それにアスパラの豚肉巻きを持ってきた。一人で持つとなるとそこそこの荷物になる。 で、一緒に呼ばれているイレーナはどこにいるのかというと。

「わすれものした！あたしとってくるからせらーんさきいってて！」 ということで私がその忘れ物が何かを聞く前に踵を返してうちに走っていった。 全くうっかりした奴だ、と思いながらインターホンを押す。 呼び鈴がなり、しばらくして返事が返ってきた。 「はい？」 ん？ …彼、オンドルマールの声に少し違和感を感じたが、 「あ、どうもセラーンです」 「ああ」 目の前の自動ドアがスッと開く。 「どーぞ」 …やはり、いつものオンドルマールと比べて少しいやかなり素っ気ない。家に招いておいて彼らしくない物言いだ。 もやもやとしたものを感じながらエレベーターに乗り5階のボタンを押す。過ぎていくドア向こうの景色を眺めながら先程のオンドルマールの態度に覚えがあることを思い出した。が、あれは彼ではなく… 部屋の前に立ちドア横のインターホンを押す。ややあって、中の廊下を歩いてくる足音がしてがちゃりと玄関が開いた。 「こんちは」 「…君のほうか」 見た瞬間にわかった。シンプルな白Tシャツと締まった長い足に程よくフィットした黒のレザーパンツ。彼はオンドルマールではなく双子の弟のベルナールのほうだ。二人は顔と声こそまるきり同じだが服装や態度は全く別人だ。ベルナールには前に一度だけ会ったことがある。そ��時はオンドルマールも一緒にいて…イレーナについて色��言われた。正直な話、嫌いというわけではないが少しだけ苦手な印象がないと言えば嘘になる。 「兄貴とアナは買い忘れた物があるとかで買い出しに行ってます」 すたすたと部屋の奥に戻りながらベルナールが言う。 「なるほど」 「すぐ戻るから、あんたが来たら悪いけどしばらく待っててくれだそうです」 そう言ってダイニングルームのソファにごろりと寝転び何やらハードカバーの小説をぱらぱらとめくっている。オンドルマールの本だろうか、私も知っている作家の短編集だ。 そう言われては仕方なく、とりあえず荷物を降ろし中の物を出す。テーブルには既にいくつかの料理と皿やコップ、フォーク類が並べられていた。温かそうな大皿のパスタやパリっとしたレタスのサラダを見る限りどうやら本当に用意してすぐ忘れ物に気付き買い出しに出たというところらしい。 持ってきた土産の料理も一緒に出しておくか、と空いた場所に並べていく。ベルナールはというと相変わらず長い足を悠々と組みながらページをめくっていた。そうして欲しいわけではないが、こういう時に言われなければ手を貸さないのが実に彼らしいと思う。兄のほうだったらこうはいかないだろう。 その違いに一人頷きながらタッパーの中の様子を確認していると、 「でイレーナとはヤったんすか？」 ぷらぷらと組んだ足を揺らすベルナールにおもむろにそう言われ、思わず脇に置いたワインの瓶を倒しそうになる。 「な…」 「どうなんです？」 ぱらり、とまた一枚ページを繰りながら重ねて尋ねられる。 「いや…」 「まだなんすか？」 そこで初めて目線をこちらにやり追って問いを重ねるベルナールに、兄のほうはいつ帰ってくるんだ、と思わずにはいられない。 「まあ…その…そうだな…」 「全く信じられませんね」 そう言って彼はぱたん、と本を閉じて脇のサイドテーブルに置き、寝転がったまま体ごとこちらに向き頬杖をつく。こうして見ると男の私でも見惚れるくらい色男だ。…それに関係ないが今彼が寝ているソファー、おそらく本革張りだろう。高そう。これから始まるであろう問答が憂鬱なばかりについそんなところに目が行ってしまう。 「あんなのに懐かれて手もつけてないとはね」 そんな私の心持ちをよそに、にんまりと口の端を上げて彼は話を続ける。 「前も言いましたが俺なら一回は寝てますよ。試しにってことで」 そう言ってサイドテーブルに置いてあった煙草を一本取り出し火を付けた。他人事ながらあのソファに灰が落ちたらどうする、とはらはらする。 「なんで放っておいてんですか？」 「…君には、関係ないだろう」 この���を早く終わらせたくて思わず突き放すような物言いになってしまった。が、 「ふうん」 ベルナールは、面白い、という風に体を起こしこちらに向かって身を乗り出すように座り直す。 「じゃやっぱあれなんすか？」 「あれ？」 「だから、勃たねえのかなって」 「…」 オンドルマール君はどこまで買い物に行ったんだ。何か足りないものがあったら言ってくれれば買ってきたのに。 「それならま、確かに個人の問題ですし黙っときますけど…」 「…そういうあれ、ではない…そういうわけでは」 「ないんすか？」 話を切り上げたかったのに沽券に関わるレッテルを貼られそうになってしまい思わず否定してしまった。 「なんだてっきりそうなのかと。こないだもなんとなく話濁すし」 「…」 「ならなおさらさっさとヤっちまえばいいじゃないですか」 くい、と形のいい片眉を上げて言う。オンドルマールと同じ顔と声でこの物言いなのだから見ていると段々混乱してくる。 「…イレーナはまだ子供だ。そういう対象では…」 「アナだって子供ですよ」 「…」 思わずふー…、と長いため息をつきながら手近なダイニングテーブルの椅子に腰掛ける。 「アナの奴だってイレーナとそう変わらない歳なのに兄貴はあれとやりまくってますよ」 「彼らのことは彼らだけの問題だろう。私が口を出すことじゃない」 紫煙を燻らせながらベルナールは、ふん、と鼻で笑うような声を出す。 「そりゃそうですがね」 楽しそうな表情がより一層濃くなった。 「俺はまたてっきりあんたに度胸がないのかと」 「度胸？」 「ええそうです。いわゆる度量ってやつですか」 ちり、と胸の奥が焦げるような感覚を覚えながら聞き返す。ああ、わかるぞ。これは良くないほうに話が進もうとしている。よせよせセラーン。彼の口車に乗るんじゃない。そう思っているはずなのに、心とは裏腹に自然と口が動く。 「あんな小娘を手篭めにするような度胸はいらんよ」 「へえ？そうですか」 ベルナールが二本目の煙草に火を付ける。 「そんなこと言って、あの子の気持ちに答える自信がない〜みたいなやつじゃないんすか？」 「…」 「あの子程の気持ちを持てる自信がないとか幸せにする自信がないとか」 「…違う…」 「あんたは真面目そうだからそんなとこじゃないかと思ったんですが違う？へえ？そうですか」 くそ、どうしてこんな話になったんだ。やっぱりこの彼のことは少し、いやかなりとても苦手だ。 「もういいだろう。それよりお兄さんとアナちゃんはまだ帰らないのか？電話して…」 「じゃあ俺が食っちまおうかな」 「な」 胸ポケットから取り出したスマホを思わず滑り落としそうになる。 「なんすかその顔は。イレーナは女として見らんないんでしょ？」 余程間の抜けた顔をしていたらしい。ベルナールはとんとんと灰を落としながらくっくっと笑う。 「そうは言ってない」 「そうですか？そう聞こえましたがね」 自然に立ち上がりソファの方へ足が向かう。よせばいいのに。私は何故こんなにムキになっているんだ。 「…撤回したまえ」 「何を？」 憎らしいほど端正な横顔でふー、と煙を吐く彼に苛立ちが募る。自分がどう見られているか完全にわかっている顔だ。これだからこういう色男は苦手だ。 「さっきの、俺がどうたらとかいうやつだ」 「何で？あんたはイレーナのことは何とも思ってないって話じゃないですか。なら俺がどうしようが勝手でしょう」 「君だって彼女のことは好みじゃないと言ったろう」 「言ったでしょ。俺なら一回は寝てるって」 気がつけば彼の目前まで来て踏ん反り返る姿を見下ろしていた。ベルナールはと言えば見下ろす私の視線にも全く動じず相変わらずにやにやとした目線を向けている。 「君のような奴にイレーナが落ちるとは思わん」 「俺みたいな？」 「…君のようなだらしのない男にはね」 「ふん」 私の顔に思い切り煙が吐きかけられる。盛大に顔をしかめてぱたぱたと手で払うとベルナールはまた楽しそうに喉の奥で笑った。オンドルマールとはまるでコインの表と裏だ。 「どうですかね？試してみます？」 「やめろと言っている」 「終わったらどうだったか報告しますよ。体は抱き甲斐がありそうなんでね」 次の瞬間、ベルナールの長身の体がぐい、とソファから引き上げられた。他人事のように言っているが私が彼の胸元を掴んで引き上げたのだ。自分がこんなことをするとは思ってもみなかった。冷静なもう一人の私が馬鹿馬鹿、やめろと言っているのだが体は全く言うことを聞かず全力で彼を睨みつけている。 「…放してくださいよ。シャツが伸びるでしょ」 「撤回しろ」 「嫌だね」 「…この…」 「クズ、とでも言いたげですね。どうします？殴ります？」 「…」 「…は、それすらも出来ねえか」 ぷつ、と頭の中で何かが切れたような音がしたようなして無意識に右の拳を振り上げる。それはもうきつく握り締めて、だ。 ベルナールのその憎たらしい顔にそれが振り下ろされる直前、 「ただいまー！」 玄関のドアががちゃりと開く音と無邪気な声が響いた。続いて、 「あ！もうせらーんさんきてるよ！」 「ああ」 聞き覚えのある、そして先程今か今かと待ち望んだ声だ。 「せらーんさ…！」 とことこと現れたアナがベルナールの胸ぐらを掴んで拳を握ったままの私を見て呆然とする。当然だろう。さっさと手を離せばいいのに私も思わず固まっている。 「ああ、セラーンさんすいません、思いの外遅くなって…！？」 続けて入ってきたオンドルマールが私とベルナールを見てアナと同じ顔をする。 「な…」 「あ、ああ、オンドルマール君、アナちゃん、いやこれは…」 「ベルナール！お前セラーンさんに何をした！？」 え？そっち？ 「何言ってんだよ。どう見ても被害者は俺だろ」 「お前が彼にちょっかいを出したに決まってる。どうなんです？セラーンさん」 「え？あ、いや」 「ちっ」 舌打ちをしてベルナールは私の手をぺしぺしと叩く。 「放せよ」 「…」 ようやく手を解くとベルナールは盛大にため息をついてわざとらしく襟元を直した。うう、くそ、元はと言えばそっちのせいなのに。 「ベルナール！なんだその態度は！��みませんセラーンさんこいつが何かしたんですね」 「弟が胸ぐら掴まれてたのにそれか？」 「お前は黙ってろ」 「そうだよ。べるがなんかしたにきまってるもん」 「うるせーぞ」 あ、いや、あの、とへどもどしている私の耳に聞き慣れた声が飛び込んでくる。 「なになに！？せらーんがどしたの！？」 げ、イレーナ。ああ面倒くさいところに。思わず、がば、とベルナールを見る。視線に（面倒くさいことを言ってくれるなよ）という意味を込めたありったけの目線で。 「ああイレーナ、さっきセラーンさんがお前のこと…」 その瞬間、がっ、と自分でも驚くような速さで彼の襟首を掴み、びゅんと隣のベッドルームまで引きずっていった。 「ちょっと何すか。だから伸びるでしょ」 「何すかじゃない！こっちの台詞だ！」 「せっかく場を盛り上げようとしたのに」 「やめろ！」 「何で。イレーナも喜びますよ」 「やめろ！絶っっっ対にやめろ」 彼の肩をきつく掴み顔を見上げながら揺さぶっていると、 「あたしがなに！？」 イレーナがひょい、と顔を出す。 「あー！何でもない！何でもない！さ、オンドルマールさんもう始めましょう少ないですがつまみも作ってきましたので」 「だからさっきセラーンさんが…」 キッッッ、とベルナールを睨むとあの口の端を上げた表情でふいと目を逸らす。全く憎たらしい。 「せらーんがあたしのことを！？なになに！？」 「何でもない！何もない！！さ、お前も準備を手伝いなさい！」 「でもお」 「いいから！！！」 ううくそ、しばらくこの弟を見張っておかなくては。はあ。 ぶつくさ言うイレーナをダイニングに押しやりながら、目に焼きつくようなベルナールのしたり顔に私は深い深いため息をついたのだった。

[jolies-cendres]

Noah & Eva

Dreamcast shortnovel

Wattpad french shortnovel here :

[reject-cast-dakotafinely]

Reject Cast: Game Face - Chapter Two: I'm Growing Up To Be A Big Boy (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1425663100-reject-cast-game-face-chapter-two-i%27m-growing-up

Lemao's finally free from the grips of middle school. Her label as a reject not as daunting anymore. She's moving onto a new challenge: Surviving high school. But this time she's on her own, no friends in sight. The silver lining this time? She's prepared. Or, she was, until a group of boys find their way into her life. Not leaving despite the dangers Lemao's current life possesses. She's eager to keep them around as much as she's eager to shoo them away. In the end, what will she do?

[edgeofheavenshortnovel]

Chapter 1 - Unblanking

Paramedics and the police arrived swarming Andy and Patrice’s home in this upscale and exclusive subdivision. 

The chief of police found Andy curled up on their king-size bed in the master’s bedroom. He was quiet. He didn’t even flinch when the cop walked in. 

“Sir, may we have a word please?” Chief of Police Officer Ed Cho, sternly asked Andy. 

Although the Chief of Police Officer was a short and stout man with dark eyes and bushy eyebrows, not physical descriptions to be feared, he was very intimidating. He could look like a happy husband and a loving father when he was off from work, but he sure was daunting when he put his blue uniform on.

There had been rumors about him being a bad cop, planting drugs on suspects and framing his enemies, just to make an arrest and get his enemies off his back. 

Andy didn’t like him.

“Sir, we just wanted to get your statement regarding her death.”

“Okay,” Andy said weakly.

“We just want you to walk us through what happened and how you found her.”

“Okay… Uhm… Well, I arrived from work and she usually greets me the moment I walk into the front door, but she didn’t. So I went looking for her in the kitchen, but I didn’t find her there. I came here to the bedroom, but she was not here. So I went into that room and then I saw that she had hung herself.”

The chief police officer stared at him with a hint of incredulity on his face.

“Look, if you think I might have something to do with this, I don’t know how you come up with that. She took her own life. And if you will be incriminating me for her suicide, then I must speak to my lawyer first.” Andy hesitated.

“Did you find the suicide note?” the officer followed up quickly.

“No.”

“Then there is a reason why we need to question you at the station. You might want to call your lawyer now, we’re going to take your official statement. And meanwhile, stay out of that room. We wouldn’t want to disrupt any potential evidence for a potential crime.”

“I did not - fine. I will call my lawyer.”

Andy spoke to his lawyer, Atty. Alonso Yap, shortly after speaking to Cho for over half an hour. They made their way to the police station where Chief Police Officer Cho was posted.

After he had given his statement to the cops for more than three hours, he went home to the very home he found his dead fiancée in. 

Andy went into the bathroom to do his nightly routine hot shower. His mind was blank and he felt numb. 

He finished his bath and got changed into his night clothes and crawled into bed. 

“This can’t be real.” he sighed.

He rolled to his fiancée’s side of the bed and lit the lavender-scented candle on her side-bed table to feel her presence. 

Patrice had always done this when she was preparing to go to bed every night.

“How could you do this to yourself, Trizzy?” he caressed her pillow in hopes to hear her voice. In hopes that this is all nothing but a nightmare that he was about to wake up from and Patrice would be there sleeping next to him.

Andy just lay there for hours, unable to get any sleep. His mind was blank but at the same time in complete chaos. 

He was troubled by the thought that there was no suicide note. Or perhaps there was but Cho and his team were just trying to frame him so he could add him to his tally of arrests.

Andy took his phone for the first time since he called the emergency number and went to check his Instagram.

“Trizzy always leaves trails about her mood on her social media. Cryptic most of the time, but I can figure it out.” he thought to himself.

Patrice’s was the only account he followed on Instagram. He noticed that he was no longer following anyone on his account. Zero.

“Did she block me before she killed herself?” he wondered.

He then remembered that he and Patrice used to have a dummy account to catfish and play pranks on random people years ago. So he logged in to the account and searched Patrice’s handle on the search box. 

“No results found for pa3ssss”

“Then this must mean she deleted her account.”

He knew her login so he went on to log in to her account instead.

Error. It said the account did not exist.

“So she did delete her account.”

He went on to check all her other social media accounts. Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, Discord, Twitch, Reddit - none. Even her Pinterest account no longer existed.

“And the police said they could not find her phone nor locate it at the moment,” he recalled.

He checked to see if her email still existed, and it did. 

The couple shared all their logins and passwords because Patrice always forgot her logins. He kept a list of the logins and passwords on his Notes app on his phone to keep track of all of them in case they needed them.

He went on his Notes app to look for her email login so he could try to get in. But this was set up to ask for a 2-Way Authentication from her phone number and her phone was missing. He could not get in. 

He hated the fact that the police had suspected him of foul play. He can afford to get her an autopsy to prove his innocence, anyway. Why should he not do that?

“No, they’ll cut her up just to prove she killed herself. That would do more disrespect to her death,” he continued to think.

He was so tempted to get into the writing room to look for clues. He knew well that she kept her journals in there. Did the police take them for evidence? There was only one way for Andy to find out.

He jumped out of his bed and strode toward the writing room.

He went in slowly making sure he does not disturb the police tapes around it, then he scuffled through the cabinet on the left wing of the room where she kept her notebooks.

He couldn’t find her journals. He most certainly knew what they looked like because, after all, he bought them for her every year. They were not there.

“She must’ve hidden them somewhere else,” he muttered.

He went through another cabinet, but he still could not find any of those notebooks. He went looking through every drawer and checked for compartments. None. 

“I wonder where she hid them,” he exhaled.

“Or did she get rid of them like how she got rid of her social media?” he started to wonder, also worried that the police must’ve gotten them when they were sweeping up the scene earlier that night. 

“If Trizzy’s suicide is going to put me in jail, damn her soul. I hope she rots in hell. She’s really managing to get on my nerves even in her death.” he felt an overwhelming resentment and anger toward his deceased fiancee. But at the same time, felt a pang of strong guilt that he could accuse her of something he is not even sure was her intention. 

He stood at the left corner of the room, right beside the shelf where Patrice kept all the children’s books she had written. 

He stared at the ceiling where she hung a few hours ago, and chills started to linger on his nape. 

Andy wasn’t superstitious. He did not believe in spirits or anything supernatural. He wasn’t even a believer in a higher being in the sky either. But at that moment, he felt a damning presence. He started to feel goosebumps running down his entire body. At least that’s how he was feeling at the moment.

He quickly walked out of the writing room and closed the door. He jumped right back to bed and forced himself to sleep.

But he couldn’t.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the scene of Patrice’s dead body hanging in the writing room.

He was overcome with fear and anger. He hated her for leaving him a problem. He hated that she had to leave him first in the most inconvenient way possible before he could. He hated her so much at that point, that he could not remember why he even fell in love with her in the first place.

“All you ever offered was an inconvenience since day one, Trizzy.” he cried out. 

“And now you just want to mess with me after all these years of always putting you above my needs!”

Andy sobbed hysterically.

The next thing he knew, he had fallen asleep and was awoken by his phone ringing. 

10:54 AM. 71 missed calls. 90 messages. And a whole bunch of social media notifications. 

“They probably just want to hear what I have to say about what happened to Trizzy.”

“And I’m very late for work.” he sighed. 

“I think they’ll understand if I don’t come to work today. My fiancée just died.” he thought as he stared at the bathroom door, hesitating to get out of his bed.

He didn’t bother reading the messages. He just didn’t feel like he wanted to talk to anybody.

He succumbed to his thoughts about Patrice once again.

Last night he was angry and he hated her. But today, he missed her.

He recalled the day they first met. 

She was a new hire in the same company where he worked. He was fortunate enough to have her be assigned the desk next to him.

He didn’t introduce himself at first. He was frustrated at his job because he always missed his quota. 

But then she turned to him and said, “Hi! I’m new here.” 

Her wide smile was brilliant, almost amusing that she seemed so happy to be in this wretched place.

“I can see that.” Andy returned. 

“Someone is grumpy,” she said in a mocking tone as she turned her seat back to her computer screen ignoring Andy.

He didn’t know if he had to feel bad about it, but he was intrigued by her energy.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired, that’s all. My name is Andy.” he pushed his seat nearer to her desk.

“Andy? Almost sounds like ‘Angry’. Just like your mood and your entire vibe.” 

“Why is she so sarcastic?” Andy thought. 

“Is it your dream job to call people and sell them stuff that doesn’t work? Or are you just here because you desperately need a job?” Andy asked her in a joking manner. 

“The second one.” 

“That makes the two of us.”

“Oh really? What did you want to be before deciding to work here?”

“I wanted to be a rich model sipping on a pina colada in a yacht with three or four hot chicks around me.”

“You’ll get there.” she retorted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. What did you say your name was?” he shifted his posture to lean toward her.

“I didn’t tell you my name. But I’m Patrice. But everyone calls me Patty or Pat.”

“Then I am not calling you Patty or Pat. I will be calling you Trice or Trizzy.” his mouth arched upwards to a grin.

“No, you won’t.”

“Oh, yes I will.” And then he leaned back in his chair, pushed back to his desk, and returned to work.

A month went by, and they both easily got along. Andy was not making sales still, Patrice was getting the hang of the job, and they both became work friends. 

Andy’s mood towards coming to work was a lot better now. He felt a little better about his job now that there is someone he can joke around with and hang around with within the office.

He lived up to calling her Trizzy and she often got annoyed and ignored him every time he called her Trizzy. But soon, she got around to the nickname he had given her and just gave in.

Little did Andy know that he was slowly developing strong feelings toward Patrice.

The phone rang again. 

Andy saw it was a call from Patrice’s mother. He didn’t want to deal with her family yet. He was still trying to process everything for himself.

In the afternoon, Andy headed out to the mortuary to see Patrice. Her parents were already there. 

Her mother, Roselyn was crying uncontrollably. Her father, Harold, was consoling his wife while he sobbed on her shoulder. Her younger sister, Kate, was also there. She cried quietly as she watched her parents hugging each other. The only one who was not there was her older sister, Stacey. She’s currently in Singapore on a trip with her husband.

Andy stopped his pace and watched her family mourning the loss of their precious daughter and sister. 

He couldn’t face them. After his thoughts of wanting to break up with Patrice the night before, he felt this heavy guilt throbbing in his chest.

He turned around and went straight back to his car.

He felt numb again. 

He was overwhelmed by the sight of Patrice’s family. He couldn’t watch the scene for one more minute. He could never face them - not because he was guilty of causing her death, but because he failed to identify whatever caused her to take her own life beforehand. 

He was supposed to know. She was supposed to tell him things like this. He was supposed to listen and support her. But he felt that he was too busy and selfish to even give a thought about what could have been going on with her while he wasn’t around.

He should have been able to spot the slightest change in her demeanor. But he was too overwhelmed by his feelings of dissatisfaction with the relationship.

He went straight back home and planned to leave the country. He didn’t want to deal with any of this right now. He wanted to mourn the loss of his fiancee but not in an emotional territory with the rest of her friends and family. He wanted to be alone.

“Maybe I’ll go to Ireland. Trizzy always wanted to visit Dublin. I can mourn her there.” he said to himself.

“And maybe I should contact Atty. Yap first, so I would not look too suspicious for deciding to leave the country for a while.” he continued to think out loud.

He sat on his bed and turned his head toward the writing room’s door. 

“I must find her journals.”

Andy shifted and rested his head on the pillow. 

He thought, “She should’ve told me what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. She never showed any signs. She never said anything. The answer must be in her journals…”

Andy’s thoughts slowly flooded with different possibilities of why his fiancée could have taken her life.

Was it something that he had done in the past that hurt her? Was it a family problem? Did she have some sort of mental health issues he didn’t know about? Did something happen with her publishing deal and her career?

His mind swiveled to darkness. He had fallen asleep.

[analogmind]

Trying to see the Light in the End of the Tunnel in these dark Times.

[soeryosworld]

Six-Leaf Clover - Introduction (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/998712272-six-leaf-clover-introduction?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_originator=iK8OFTyLOmEEqASH%2Ba9bDKj8ugb8eWaAlLrpX9y47PB3QfOyVIxcxeRUlUtPHwzcBOLyevqEdh4gMnsk9JKi9gRKOlg%2BG%2FdgSWL%2BY8bF7UBpIRU8I36aKap7QmGsJi3y In adjustment of every trouble being inevitable due to the Covid-19 pandemic, these two will strive to find comfort in the chaos. - Entering senior year of high school, Monique and Justin manage to record their consecutive three years status as subtle frenemies. Even the fact that they're required to work together on the school papers is capable of adding more fuel to the fire, if not for the help of three mutual friends. But when a global crisis cuts all access to their daily drug, changes are meant to be made. What could have been a final stage to enjoy their last moment of being irresponsibly fun and naive turns into a bitter mid-youth crisis. And with the return of an old friend, how will they face the following challenges if it all is just the start of a new normal?

[timeforshortbooks]

Thinking about Jean Rhys this morning...

the first time I read Good Morning, Midnight I rushed through it ready for a seminar later that day; the subsequent time I read it in one day, just because I wanted to; the next time I took my time to notice new things and appreciate the beauty of Rhys’ writing, ready to write an essay on it.

Each time was as powerful as the next ❤️

[razishirazi]