Sa dua te ngre krye mbi semundjet e mbi vuajtjet, qe vec ate fytyre mos e shihja te trembur. Te trembur nga vdekja. Sa do doja ta shpetoja e ti jepja pak jete. Sepse me ate bota do ishte me e mire. Por ndersa veshtrova syte e Tij, kuptova qe skish shpetim. E atehere krahet mu prene dhe u inatosa me jeten. U inatosa me veten.

Teksa linte pas pemen ne fund te rruges, xhamin gjysem te hapur te dritares se katit te dyte, shpinen kishte kthyer. Nuk do te kthente kurrsesi koken per te pare mungesen e nje shikimi qe nga pas nuk po e ndiqte ne kete nate te erret. Le te ishte nje arrogant ne ikje. Me shpinen e kthyer do e braktiste gjithcka. Le te konsiderohej nje fatlum mosmirenjohes qe nuk denjoi te hidhte syte e te pershendetej per te fundit here me gjithcka kishte nderkohe qe ne realitet ai thjesht ishte nje fatkeq qe e kishte te pamundur ti thoshte 'lamtumire' asaj gjithckaje nese do te kthente koken edhe njehere. Teksa braktiste naten, pemen, rrugen e mbase gjithcka tjeter qe njihte, nuk mundej te mos mendonte se nderkohe qe njerezit luteshin per nje fund te bukur, ai kishte dashur fare pak. Ah, sikur Argenti te kishte patur fatin te kishte vec nje fillim.

- Pra, beson ne fund te lumtur? -Jo.-nuk ndaloi te mendonte qofte edhe nje sekonde. -Jo?!-nuk u mundua aspak te fshihte zhgenjimin qe mori nga pergjigja e tij. -Nuk mund te jete edhe fund, edhe i lumtur. A nuk vdesim te gjithe ne fund?-mblodhi supet e vajza vec tundi koken.-Besoj ne mes te lumtur.-shtoi me tej duke mbire keshtu nje buzeqeshje te madhe ne fytyren e saj me menyren sesi ai i shikonte gjerat.

Xhoni Gega kishte ndjere gjithcka ishte per tu ndjere. Ishte i bindur qe pasketej , asgje te re nuk do te ndiente. Vec versione me te pakta te ndjesive qe tashme kishte perjetuar. Perdite e me pak, derisa te mirepriste fundin. Po ta pyesnin a mund te ishte nje femer fundi i tij, ai nuk do te hezitonte aspak qe te pergjigjej 'kurre'. Po ta pyesnin a ishte aq i bindur per kete sa te vendoste doren ne zjarr, do ti pergjigjej 'jo'. Jo vec doren. Do ishte hedhur i teri ne zjarr. Do kishte hedhur shpirtin ne zjarr i bindur qe nje femer nuk do te mjaftonte kurre per te qene nje ndryshim per te, lere pastaj te ishte nje fund. Mirepo, teksa priste me entuziasem nje fund per episodet e ndjesive te njejta, nuk e kishte idene se ndryshimin do e gjente pikerisht tek fundi. Oh, fundi do ti dhimbte ndryshe. E ajo do ti dhimbte si nje fund.

One girl. One boy. Two insomniacs. ( rose awards short story winner ) ****DISCLAIMER THIS BOOK IS VERY CLICHE AND IT WAS WRITTEN ENTIRELY ON MY IPHONE 7 SO DON'T COME FOR ME

"..Nuk e kishte kuptuar kurre pse ekzistonin varrezat. Ishte valle qenia njerezore aq e dobet sa ta linin me te shtrenjtin e tyre te kalbej ne nje grope nentoke? A e bente njeriun te ndihej me mire fakti se nen kembet e tij qendronte kufoma e dikujt qe ishte burgosur fizikisht ne erresire pergjithnje edhe pas vdekjes? Apo mendimi se nje dite dhe ai vete do t'u bashkohej malit te nendheshem e te pafund te kockave? Po, po. Njerezit jane vertet te dobet; mendonte, teksa shikonte nga vendi qe se shpejti do te ishte shtrati i saj i vdekjes." Short story. Major character death.

Bazuar ne nje histori te vertete (titulli provizor) Si gjithmone jam shume tyce ne pershkrimin e historive :P keshtuqe po ja fus kot per momentin deri kur te me vije ndonje ide :P Ndjek Ajlen, nje studente 19 vjecare gjate disa viteve te veshtira te jetes se saj. Nga momenti kur zbulon qe eshte shtatezane me femijen e te dashurit qe i kerkon te abortoje deri ne luften per te rifituar vajzen e saj....

(alternatively called: slow burn, second-hand embarrassment, and shenanigans) A girl made up of short fuses, clumsy feet and copious amounts of sarcasm has to team up with her irritatingly obnoxious neighbour in the name of love (also known as raging teenage hormones). Because in the grand scheme of things, what's a little deal with the devil? (Spoiler Alert: absolute chaos.) cover by xdemonsflowerx

When Tristan and Dana crash (quite literally) into each other's lives, it's hate at first site. But fate has a strange sense of humor because the universe seems to keep throwing them back together. Dana Montgomery lived and breathed through her photography, never being found without a camera in her hand or hanging around her neck. After her mom died she had to quit college to take care of her younger sister, Ivy. Now she goes through life armed with sarcasm and cynicism. Even if she had time between raising Ivy and working full time, Dana can't seem to bring herself to pick up the camera again. Despite an undeniable attraction to Tristan, she initially rejects them. Tristan is the heir to the Kingsley banking empire. Even though he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he's still ruthlessly ambitious and will do anything to get what he wants. So when this random girl has the audacity to stand up to him like no one else does, he is instantly intrigued. In a world of things Tristan can buy, Dana might be the one person he can't have. *** "You're afraid," he stated, stepping closer. "Afraid?" I scoffed, trying to take a step back but meeting a wall instead. He placed his hand on the wall by my head, now so close that I could feel him breathing. "You lost someone and now you're afraid to let someone in again." I opened my mouth to argue, but I realized I didn't have anything to say. His forehead touched mine. "Let me in, Dana."