Leather Pocketbook Novels & Stories

She had heard of a place here in Sitges that sold leather goods, and wanted to find something to take back for her Aunt Alice and something for Li Fan. They found the shop soon enough, and Debbie found some really nice handmade bags. She chose one for Alice, then she bought overnight bags for Rick and Li Fan. The smell of the shop was of tanned leather and the incence burning in it's holder at the front door. The smell all of a sudden made Debbie throw up. She was embarrassed to say the least. As hungry as she was, she had been having trouble eating and holding it down over the last few days.

When they left the store, Dorin was holding a thick parcel of bills. "So, this is paper money..." he asked no one in particular. "Put it in your... bag..." she stared annoyingly at the flour sack and pulled him inside a different store. They left the store later, Dorin with a brand new leather satchel, and the proprietor waving happily after them. "I have always wanted my own satchel, but my mother always said that I had no use for it since I don’t travel anyway..." he exclaimed happily, caressing the bag, "Look how supple this leather is!"

“I sort of noticed that when you came here you didn’t have any pack or clothes of your own. So I created this one seeing as your travels may require you to at least have food.” Brandon didn’t tell her that he had in fact show up with a knife. Instead he nodded his head as he continued to open the zippers and draw strings, until his hands brushed against a slightly raised hard fabrics at the back of the bag. Glen watched him as he turned the large pack over on his lap. “What’s this....it’s some kind of symbol?” Brandon asked her softly as he fingered the beautifully embossed dual leopards that seemed to be mirrored perfectly in thread under the right strap of the pack.

My clothes, I suppose, though nothing looks familiar. I step inside. One wall holds dresses and gowns, organized by color. Another wall is shoes, dozens of pairs I can't imagine ever wearing. The third wall has drawers, and I open them one by one. Jewelry. Scarves. Handbags are worth more than most people's cars. And in the back corner, behind a stack of sweater boxes, I find a small leather bag, dusty and out of place among all this perfection. My hands shake as I pull it out. Inside is a journal, worn at the edges like it's been handled often. I open to the first page, and the handwriting makes my heart stop.

Her bag and shoes matched, she even wore light makeup which made her face look bright and very beautiful. "Have you moved the bag on top of the cupboard, Peter?" Leora asked in a very calm tone, as if Jayden's words saying that he was loved by Jayden was a normal thing she heard every day. "That bag contains books I owned when I was in college and now I need them." I looked at Leora with a rumbling chest and it was hard to blink. Lizzy pinched my waist irritably, trying to divert attention, but I couldn't take my eyes off Leora.

It is heavy, weighing at least five pounds, completely protected from the damp coastal air by the thick oilcloth wrapping. I pull it out, setting it down carefully on a clean wooden bench just outside the closet door. Damien pulls his pocketknife from his coat, carefully slicing through the hemp twine. He folds back the layers of heavy oilcloth. Inside rest three bound leather account ledgers and a thick manila envelope sealed with red wax. I open the first ledger. The pages are covered in thin, precise handwriting, tracking off-the-books transactions dating back to 2016. My eyes scan the rows of numbers, names, and bank routing numbers.

I didn’t know where it would lead, but as I held the gift in my hands, I realized that I was willing to find out. When I opened the box, I didn’t know what to expect. But as soon as I saw what was inside, my breath caught. A leather sketchbook. The deep burgundy color was beautiful, and my initials were pressed into the cover in gold. I ran my fingers over it, feeling the smooth leather. The small touch of having my name there—it felt personal, thoughtful, like he’d really put effort into it. Did he?

“Open it.” I wanted to tell her that it was unnecessary and that she should just take it away. But I couldn’t do that. I noticed all the other deltas watching us. I lifted out the tissue paper and grasped a large object. I pulled it from the bag. She bounced on her heels as I looked at it, running my fingers over the leather. It was a briefcase, with buttery, cognac colored leather and rose gold accents. It was beautiful. And very expensive. “I can’t accept this,” I said.

Three pairs of white and two pairs of black. Before I could lose myself and just look at the beautiful clothes and shoes in front of me, I grabbed something and my hand crawled to the side of my closet. I looked at it and a leather jacket that was soft and black in color. Wow, this is beautiful. My hand searched for a pocket. Yes, I immediately put the cash in my left hand into the pocket of that leather jacket. I closed the zipper and fixed it. I'll take a look at my stuff later as long as I put the trade first and I really want to see Natalie.

I don’t know if I’m locked in here or if I’m free to move around, but I have a feeling either way he doesn’t want me getting into things while he’s dealing with those carjackers. I run my hand over the jacket again, feeling something small and rectangular in one of the pockets. Shoving my hand into it, I pull out his wallet. It’s worn leather, the edges slightly frayed and discolored, but other than that it’s well-kept. When I open it, a small, folded photograph catches my eye immediately.