Book Pocket Size Novels & Stories

Shelves lined with notebooks in every size, pens in neat rows, and blank journals stacked by the window. I moved to the notebooks and picked one up. "Too big," Duke said. I put it back. Found a smaller one—plain cover, nothing fancy, easy to carry in a pocket or a bag. I flipped it open. Blank pages, lined, the kind that didn't demand anything from you until you were ready. "That one," Duke said.

STORY CONTINUES BELOW I slowly slid off the window sill and made my way over to the bag. Master just watched me from the corner of his eye as I crawled onto the couch so I was in front of the bag. 12 I cautiously lifted the bag so it was facing me. My mouth fell open as soon as I spotted the thing inside. 8 I carefully pulled out the large sketchbook, admiring the black leather cover and the silver binding. 622 Holy crap... The ones I would get as a child were barely even as big as my hand, but this... 56 I couldn't even think of how to describe it.

Most of them have only one picture on the page and are a quarter of the size of a regular book. "Shit." I say quietly. "I can't believe it still costs ten bucks for a book that only has six pages. I can get a two hundred page paperback at the grocery store for the same price." Tiffany smirks. "But does your two hundred page paperback have fur like this touchy-feely book with a tiger on the front?" "It has fur?" I grab it out of her hands and begin going through it, touching all the different pictures as I turn the pages.

I said. "And the outside pocket," he said. "For the survey notebook." "Yes," I said. He looked at the sketch. He touched the outside pocket drawing. "Flat so it doesn't bulk," he said. "Yes," I said. "So I can tell what page I'm on without taking it out," he said. I looked at him. "Can you?" I said. "I can feel the page through the cover," he said. "If the pocket is flat enough." He paused. "The current coat has a round bottom pocket. The notebook gets lost in it."

The weight of our situation pressed down, heavy and suffocating. It was then, amidst the debris of a collapsed building, that Kelly unearthed it – a small, tarnished silver locket. It lay half-buried in the dust, its surface scratched and worn, yet somehow managing to retain a faint, almost ethereal glow. We gathered around it, the faint glimmer a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness. Inside, nestled amongst the faded velvet lining, was a single, faded photograph.

I waved both of my hands, hoping she would know that I am grateful. "Oh right, I forgot..." She said before she reached in to the front pocket of her pink apron. The woman pulled out a pink mini notebook with a snap button and a small pen tucked in the gap of the strap. "Here." She said as she offered me the notebook. Accepting the book with both of my hands, I looked down at it with confusion. "I thought it might come in handy. Besides it's small enough to fit in to a wide pocket so you can carry it anywhere." The woman said.

The book was a library hardback with a great white shark on the cover, opened to a page that was almost entirely photographed. “Lucas.” “This one is ten tonnes,” he said, without looking up. “It says ten. They thought it was too big to be real so they measured it twice.” “Lunch box.” “Yeah.” “Now.” “Just—” “Now, Lucas. The bus is in nine minutes.” He closed the book with his thumb marking the page, got up off the floor, opened his backpack on the counter, and started digging. Chloe came down the stairs behind me with one sock on and an opinion already forming.

if so maybe they will come here late. Putting his hand on his pocket, he picks up a box that is smaller than his smartphone. It is also thin which is why it is not hard for him to put it in his pocket. "I never thought I will have a chance to use this..."

I sat alone at the table for a moment, then pulled the package toward me and unwrapped it. Two small glass bottles. One blue, one red. Both smaller than my thumb. I wrapped them back up and put them in my pocket.

I want to start a conversation to reduced my boredom and know him better, but he seemed a carbon copy of Grayson because they had the same posture. Nicho was quiet, not talkative, annoys you with his silence and even make you out of place because he's a bookworm to me. Where did he even get that book? Maybe he put the book to his pocket, that's why I didn't see it? Wait, but that is not small book either. "It fits my pocket," he spoke. "What?" I stuttered. He take a quick glanced at me before turning back at the book, "This book fits my pocket. If you're wondering how I able to bring this."