Bite-sized Book Novels & Stories

Opening my phone, I type out the perfect text. -Hey! How are you?- Faith. I’m a literary genius, clearly. I groan, disappointed with my conversation starting skills as I wait for a text message to come through. Three very long and disappointing minutes pass and I decide reading makes time move much faster than staring at the device I’m basically begging to ding. I pick up my romance novel and immediately I’m sucked in. A dashing prince is racing against time to grab the magic tears of the moon so he can turn his beloved into her human form so they can finally be together.

She was pretty and looked within her early twenties. "Is it a college project?" She asked. "No, just leisure reading." I replied. "Oh, then these are the best for you." She tapped on the books on my hand. "Hmm, thanks." I scanned the giant shelves of books. "So anything in particular you're looking for in a psychology book?" She asked, leading down a hallway. "Conquering inner demons, I suppose." I really didn't know what I was looking for but deep down, that was the answer written in bold letter.

To her dismay, Jane found herself walking down the hall to English with Lucy by her side, still talking, talking, talking. "I didn't know you were such a big reader, Jane," Lucy said, smiling at her. "I guess because your book-report books are always so short. But length isn't what matters in a book. I love a lot of short books, too. Just look at poetry. A poem can be any length. There are millions of wonderful poems that are only a few lines long. Like Emily Dickinson's poems. She can say more in two lines than most people can say in a hundred pages. What part are you up to in A Tale of Two Cities?"

muttered Sumico excitedly. Sumico went on taking a look at Hanny’s other romance novels one by one until she reached a book – not a novel, but it got the similar size with a novel. The title was tickling, somewhat queer, strange, and scary. Sumico turned the book back to read the synopsis for a while.

Even so, I still grab that colorful one before reading the title on the cover. “Big Magic. Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert.” I nod my head. “Is this even a good read?” I talked to myself once again and start walking back towards the chair for me to sit on. I skim through the pages and concluded that these are new since it smells like bookstore. A flash of memory then flash inside my mind and concluded right after. “Maybe this is one of the books he bought last Saturday?” That day when we saw each other inside that stall but he automatically look away and ignored my whole existence.

It was still there, but quieter like a lake without wind. “It’s calm.” I whispered. “That’s your center.” she said with a light smile “The bond is the anchor that holds you there.” “Remember this feeling, you must find it tomorrow, no matter what they do to you.” The door bolt crashed open again. Caleb walked in, alone this time. He carried a wooden tray with a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread, he placed it on the floor just inside the door, his movements casual, like he was feeding a dog.

Mia brought a box of delicious-looking king crabs to visit me. I hadn't had crab in a long time. The reason was simple—Xander had once helped Natasha crack open a crab at a business dinner. Back then, I was afraid he wouldn't have time to eat, so I lowered myself to crack it for him. But all I got in return was Xander's reprimand. He hissed, "Cynthia, could you stop being so malicious toward Natasha? Are you trying to humiliate her? Do you feel superior?"

I could feel myself getting younger just by changing my mindset. When I got home, I was still a bit dazed. I shared my strange encounters from the day with Alice. She pulled out her phone and showed me—I had millions of followers! I was stunned. When did I get so many fans? I had only been posting videos for a few months. This was too fast! "It's because your cooking has the taste of home, unlike all those bland pre-packaged meals. So many people watch your videos while they eat." I nodded, not quite understanding but going along with it.

I say sweetly, peeling back the cover and revealing my treasures tucked into a carved-out hole in the pages. Two instant noodle packs. Three Baby Ruth bars. And one shiny, glorious cheese powder sachet. I damn near cried. “You carved out the book?” he asked, incredulous. “Relax. The kids already cried in it. Might as well make it useful.” He stared at me, mouth open. “You made me traffic snacks.” “Technically, literature-enhanced goods.” “You used me.” “Technically, I recruited you.” He paced the cell. “Do you know how much trouble I could’ve gotten into?”