Little Space Novels & Stories

It was small. This was the first thing he noticed—the room was smaller than he had imagined, smaller than the scale of the penthouse would have suggested. Where the rest of the apartment was expansive, open, designed to create a sense of space and possibility, this room was intimate, contained, almost modest in its dimensions. It was the size of a study or a small bedroom, not grand or imposing or designed to impress. It was plain.

Meanwhile, outside an apartment complex, Macie had arrived home. Alice followed her up, scanning the modest 800-square-foot space before sighing dramatically. "This place is so small. My bathroom is bigger than this." "Please, Alice, try to endure it. This is where we ordinary folk live," Macie said smilingly. "It's just me living here, so I don't need much space. The location is good, and the management is decent, so I bought it outright." "There are two bedrooms? I'm staying over tonight," Alice announced as she looked around.

Through all the hard work and growth and change that this place brought me, he was the best part. "It still feels so small, even when it's empty" Rhodes remarks, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he peers out of the tiny window. I roll my eyes and kneel down amongst some of the boxes at my feet. "Just because your apartment is the size of a small island" I mumble with a grin.

"You said we only had 130 grand left on the debt. This covers it. If you don't want it, fine. I'll give it back." She fell silent for a moment before finally reaching out and putting it away. "I'll go pay off the debt tomorrow," she murmured. Then, she forced a change of subject. "What do you want for dinner? I'll make something." I looked around the room. It was a tiny studio apartment, barely 320 square feet—small enough to take in at a single glance. It was sparse, furnished only with a wardrobe, a bed, and a cramped bathroom. There was no kitchen, and we had to prepare our meals on the coffee table.

Annette said calmly. Connor said disdainfully, "You know how to comfort yourself. What did you win?" Annette stopped and looked at him. "Freedom and self-esteem." Annette opened the door of her apartment. Connor followed her in. It was an apartment with a bedroom and a living room. It was so small that the whole place was smaller than his bedroom. Connor looked around and said, "How can you live in such a place?" Annette glanced at Connor and said disdainfully, "Well, it's good enough for me."

"My place isn't that spacious like yours but it is quiet comfortable. Have a sit." As Nathan walked into the apartment, he quickly scanned the entire room. Although it wasn't that big, it was spacious enough. "Thank you." The room was small with clean white walls, a bed, a desk with a blank blotter on it, sliding closets opposite the bed, and a thin green shag carpet. There was a computer which faces out of the window. Making it more like having the sky and buildings in the background. As he was looking out of the window, a bird few buy and then a plane also in the distance. Looking to his far left was a 42 inch TV which was on at the moment and was displaying my daily dose of CNN.

Like that none of the windows were open and that the inside was smaller than the outside. That note made me pause. "By how much?" "4-6 feet" Jake estimates, showing me with his hands. "Give or take." That's more space than our home on the coast with the secret passages. "That's about the size of a closet." "And it goes all the way around the building," he shrugs. "Seemed a bit wide for insulation and plumbing." Or a room.

The room was small and Anthony Jr. hadn't done anything to make it feel large. He had a twin bed, a massive book shelf stuff with DVDs and comics and a variety of other things, and a large desk for his computers. There was only a couple of square feet of space in the middle of the room to walk around. And that (like everything else in the room) was covered in dirty clothes, Mountain Dew cans, and empty Doritos bags. I had given up on asking him to clean it up.

"Are you really that short on money?" Lydia, confused, didn't understand what had upset him this time. "Not at all." Lambert struggled to comprehend. "If you're not short on money, why not rent a villa or at least a three-bedroom place?" "Because it's unnecessary!" Lydia's tone grew cold. "Lambert, ultimately, this is my personal matter. I prefer living in this small space. If you don't like it, just go back!" She wanted a small home because being alone felt lonely, and a larger space would frighten her at night. However, she wouldn't dare express that.

The habit was still strong, the instinct to keep things smaller, safer, less complicated. Then I thought about Mom’s words from the night before. About stopping the habit of making myself small. About taking up space without apologizing for it. “Actually,” I said, “a coffee sounds good. Regular. Just milk.” “Done.” He closed his laptop, slid it into his bag, and stood. “I’ll be back in a few. Don’t let anyone take your notes.” “I won’t. Thank you.”