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The Perpetual Monday
The Perpetual Monday
The Perpetual Monday
Ebook69 pages52 minutes

The Perpetual Monday

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"The Perpetual Monday" is a story of week-long woes that will make readers rethink the start of the workweek. In this chronicle of time-loop trouble, eccentric detective Olivia Faulkner investigates a town cursed to an endless loop of Mondays. Her journey pits her against unpredictable time anomalies and the enigmatic Mr. Cogsworth as she races to break the cycle and bring Tuesday to life.

This story of paradoxical proportions is perfect for readers who savor a dash of dread with a hearty dose of humor. Be warned, dear reader, for once you start "The Perpetual Monday," you may find yourself side-eyeing your calendar. Should you continue, prepare for a story that questions time's flow, the invention of alarm clocks, and the perils of snoozing one too many times.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherEmily Natsu
Release dateNov 16, 2024
ISBN9798230990666
The Perpetual Monday

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    Book preview

    The Perpetual Monday - Emily Natsu

    CHAPTER ONE

    In the quaint town of M, where the air always smelled faintly of cinnamon and old books, there lived a peculiar detective named Olivia Faulkner. I regret to inform you, dear reader, that Olivia's life was about to become entangled in a mystery so perplexing, so utterly bizarre, that it would make even the most steadfast clock lose its rhythm.

    Olivia, a woman of precisely thirty-seven years, three months, and seventeen days, awoke on what she believed to be a perfectly ordinary Monday. Her cat, a rotund tabby named Miss Ivy (who, I must add, was anything but ordinary), yawned widely, revealing a set of teeth that would make a shark feel inadequate.

    Good morning, Miss Ivy, Olivia mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. I suppose it's time to face another Monday.

    Little did Olivia know that the word another would soon take on a meaning so profound, so mind-bogglingly repetitive, that it would make even the most patient person want to tear their hair out and scream into the void. But I'm getting ahead of myself, dear reader. Let us return to the events of that fateful morning.

    As Olivia shuffled to her kitchen, a room that could only be described as organized chaos, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. The air felt heavy with anticipation, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. (A phrase which, I should explain, means waiting for an expected and often unpleasant event to happen, and has nothing to do with actual footwear falling from the sky, although in M, one could never be too sure.)

    She poured herself a cup of coffee, black as night and strong enough to wake the dead. As she sipped the steaming liquid, her eyes fell upon the calendar hanging crookedly on her refrigerator. The date read: Monday, November 4, 2024.

    Curious, Olivia muttered, her detective instincts tingling like a thousand tiny alarm bells. I could have sworn yesterday was Monday too.

    Miss Ivy meowed in agreement, or perhaps she was simply demanding her breakfast. With cats, one can never be entirely sure.

    Shrugging off the odd feeling, Olivia dressed in her usual attire: a tweed jacket with elbow patches (a fashion choice that screamed eccentric detective louder than a foghorn in a library), a pair of sensible brown trousers, and her lucky magnifying glass necklace. She bid farewell to Miss Ivy and stepped out into the crisp morning air.

    The streets of M were bustling with the usual Monday morning activity. Mrs. Pemberley was watering her prize-winning petunias (which, between you and me, were actually quite mediocre), Mr. Finch was opening his antique shop (filled with items that were neither antique nor particularly interesting), and the local baker, Theo Crumpet, was arranging his display of Monday Muffins.

    As Olivia walked to her office, located above the town's only bookstore, The Dusty Tome, she couldn't help but notice that everything seemed... familiar. Too familiar. It was as if someone had pressed a giant replay button on the entire town.

    She paused in front of the bakery, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the air. Good morning, Theo, she called out. Those Monday Muffins smell delightful, as always.

    Theo, a man whose mustache seemed to have a life of its own, beamed at her. Why, thank you, Miss Faulkner! Would you like your usual? One blueberry muffin and a cup of Earl Grey?

    Olivia frowned. But... I had that yesterday.

    Theo's bushy eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Yesterday? But yesterday was Sunday, Miss Faulkner. We were closed.

    A chill ran down Olivia's spine, a sensation not unlike the feeling one gets when realizing they've put their shirt on backwards and have been walking around like that all day. Something was very, very wrong in M.

    As she climbed the creaky stairs to her office, her mind raced with possibilities. Could she be experiencing déjà vu on a grand scale? Had she somehow slipped into an alternate dimension where every day was Monday? Or was there a more sinister explanation lurking beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary day?

    Olivia unlocked her office door, the brass nameplate reading Olivia Faulkner, Detective Extraordinaire gleaming in the morning light. (The Extraordinaire had been added by Olivia herself, in a moment of whimsy that she

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