Crossbody Pocketbook Novels & Stories

"Take it off and we'll—" "Mama look at my pockets!" Liam came around the corner of the changing room area at speed, wearing a dark navy coat with his hands shoved into the pockets and his gray eyes bright with the specific triumph of someone who has found exactly what they required, and he stopped in front of her and demonstrated the pockets by producing from one of them a small paperback he had apparently been carrying in his jacket the entire morning. "See?" he said. "It fits." "I see," she said. "That's perfect. Take it off and—"

She sighed and set to work adjusting her attire. "T-Thank you...by the way," she said turning her attention to Brick at last. "I mean...if you hadn't come along..." "Don't mention it," replied Brick smoothly. He suddenly began going through his pockets and pulled out a nearly empty pack of cigarettes in a white box with a picture of what looked to be a camel on it. He put one of the thin white sticks to his lips and flicked a silver cross-engraved liter, igniting the end of it before taking a drag from it and putting the liter away.

I wore a simple black off-shoulder and ragged white pants, I paired it with a black topsider for women. I just let my hair hang down to my ass. I put a little orange marmalade lip tint and Johnson powder. I didn't bring a bag with me, everything is inside my pocket, my wallet fits in my pocket. My cellphone is in my ass pocket too, I'll just hold it when we take a taxi so it won't be crushed.

Azize nodded and went quiet, but I felt her presence, so she didn't go far. Rose was crying, covering her face with her hands, which allowed me to look around the room for her carefully protected backpack. I found it nearby, open with its contents scattered. I didn't want to look through it without her consent, but something told me it was better not to wait until she woke up from her episode. I slowly began to move towards the backpack. With a heavy heartbeat, I noticed that, in addition to literally a few personal items, there was also a thick leather notebook embossed with the Larch Groove Pack crest and a small pencil drawing that made my whole body tremble.

This thing is absolutely priceless, a must for traveling too. Luna didn’t have one, yet she was willing to give it to Alex just like that, which was very generous of her. Alex then inserted his spiritual conscience into the area within the storage purse and realized that it was around ten cubic inches, a rather large space considering it was just a purse. Most were just a few cubic inches after all. If one only had one cubic inch, the owner could only store some important personal items. Surprisingly, a sword and a worn-out talisman were inside.

I made a beeline to my bedroom after locking the door behind me. I was about to kick my shoes off and climb into bed when I noticed three black, bulky garment bags resting on my bed along with four shoe boxes. I slowly approached the bed and gazed at the other items piled on the bed. There was a leather backpack from a luxury designer brand that the rich girls at my high school used to carry. When I opened it, it was filled with student supplies: notebooks, journals, pens, pencils, erasers…anything I could imagine. I abandoned the backpack for the large white bag that was stamped with the campus bookstore logo. Inside were all the textbooks I needed for the Fall semester: Pack Dynamics and L

I’m flushed deep plum, I know by my scalded cheeks, and as everyone cranes their neck to ogle my things, my skin burns hotter, even though I have to be as dark as I can get. Really, it’s a usual scavenger assortment. A notebook and a grease pencil stub. Rocks. Some crystals. A slingshot. Carabiners, paper clips, fishing lures, a blue handkerchief, a compass with a broken needle, my good compass, a metal thimble, a porcelain thimble, knitting needles, matchbooks, a Bic lighter, a beeswax candle, a pocket knife, a corkscrew, a magnifying glass, a brass letter opener, a fidget spinner, the shards of mussel and snail shells, the bottle cap with the red eagle, and a bag of cat treats. And lying r

It looked like a flash drive, but it was encased in platinum. "The payload," he said. "Where do I put it?" I asked. "The dress has no pockets." Elara smirked. "I am The Weaver, darling. I anticipate the needs of my clientele." She knelt down. She adjusted the hem of the dress. "Lift your leg," she ordered. I lifted my leg. Inside the heavy hem of the dress, hidden in the lining, was a tiny, reinforced pocket. "Perfect for a knife, a cyanide pill, or a data drive," Elara said.

There could be other stuff inside, but with all the guns, it was hard to tell. I'd never held a gun before, and I wasn't about to start now. Shooting myself by accident was the last thing I wanted to do. An end pocket on the bag's exterior caught my eye. I opened it even though I was sure it contained extra ammo for the guns. It turned out to be more than a pocket since it had a solid encasement to prevent its contents from being crushed. My fingers ran over something long and metal. It felt like a small container. It took a lot of patience, but I wiggled it free from the tight compartment. I'd been right. It was a small silver case. It had two separate buckle latches.

she continued eagerly, “something you could use for a quick getaway, or just to run errands when you don’t want to carry the whole thing.” She practically beamed with excitement, probably imagining her commission. But I didn’t mind. I had a man who insisted I spend his money, and damn it—I was doing my best to obey. “Let me see that,” I said, nodding. “Also, I’d love to look at a new wallet—something elegant, timeless, something that goes with everything.” “Perfect,” she said, already moving away to fulfill my requests. I leaned in closer to the bag, peeking inside the spacious compartment. It had side pockets for smaller things—keys, lip balm, anything you didn’t want rattling around. It wa