Note Book Buku Kecil Novels & Stories

I crinkle my nose because of the stinky smell while I'm checking the whole room. "Nothing is interesting here..." I whisper to myself a bit disappointed because I saw nothing. I was about to leave but then I notice the pile of books on the old office table in the right corner. I walk towards it and I smile when I saw a different volume of the encyclopedia. I touch it and I trace it with my fingers not minding the dust before I flip the cover to open making me saw a small old piece of paper with a note written a very small font size. I pick it and narrowed my eyes until I finally get familiar with the letters. A victorious smile plastered on my lips because of that,but not until when I read w

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.

He was watching them too. Then he looked at me. I looked back at my notebook. Very normal. Very fine. "You always carry that thing everywhere?" he asked. I looked up. He was still looking at me. "The notebook?" He nodded once. "Pretty much," I said. "What do you write in it?" I blinked. That wasn't a question I expected. "Notes," I said carefully. "For class mostly. And sometimes other things." "Like what?" "Just… thoughts." He looked at the notebook for a second.

The seventeenth notebook opened in January. She has been noting this in the annual reviews since the third: how many notebooks have been filled, at what pace, and what the pace says about the year. The seventeenth notebook opened in January and will close, she estimates, in February of next year — a shorter year than most, which means the writing was denser rather than less frequent. The third book required a different kind of attention than the briefs and the annual reviews; the notebook this year has more thinking and less reporting.

The pages were all blank. What the hell? Was it a notebook? I thought, taking my lips in, even as my eyes caught a tiny black pen which was attached to its lock. "A note it is..." I muttered, keeping the book back. I will return to it whenever I need to write down a story, or jot down my feelings. I traced the books on the second shelf, stopped at a small blue book. It looked like a novel, exactly what I was looking for. From the inscriptions on the width of some of the books, they were history books, although some were written in some other foreign language.

Was there any other thing that she could have said? Luca nodded with a smile too. “That is great. I am in a bit of a hurry, but I brought you something that I think could be of help to you,” he said, and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. Natalie creased her brows as she looked at the book. “What is it?“ She asked. But the more she looked at the book, the dizzier she began to feel. Luca helped her put the notebook into her pockets. “You don't have to go through it now,” he said. “It is something you valued so much in your childhood. Go through it later on, okay?“

It was the kind of store that felt personal, like someone had actually thought about every single thing on the shelves instead of just filling them with whatever was on sale. I could see leather journals, nice pens and those little desk things that looked both useful and pretty. Maya picked up a notebook bound in dark brown leather. "What about this? Simple. Classic. Won't make anyone's voice go weird." I took it from her. The leather was smooth and warm in my hands. The pages inside were thick, the kind that make writing feel important even if you're just making a grocery list. "He writes things down," I said slowly. "Lists. Plans. Stuff for work. Stuff for us. He has this little notebook h

"You don't have any clothing in there? You have an entire bag for stationary?" "I need my notebooks," I reply defensively. I twist my lips at him in annoyance. Who is he to challenge my life? But then again, we're in this together. So maybe he should have a say? I dismiss the thought outright. Fuck that. I pick up my favorite notebook, a 300 page pink and white "monstrosity" as Emma calls it. It's gorgeous really, shades of pink crossing it with white flowers and rhinestones scattered over it.

My leg wrapped around his waist with a mind of its own, pulling him closer, and he made another one of those sounds that drove me crazy; half groan, half curse. My eyes drifted to the side, trying to ground myself, struggling somehow to think through this confusing haze of desire and pull myself together. Just then, out of the corner of my eyes before Jace could distract me with another kiss, I spotted a small pile of books on his nightstand. Not just any books, textbooks for school. Biology. English. History. All stacked neatly, with a few sticky notes poking out from between the pages. And on top of the pile, there was a notebook with my handwriting on the cover: JACE'S STUDY GUIDE - SPRIN

he tried to soften the anger in me, and it was slowly working. He wanted to know because he held five different notebooks, all of which made me want to see them. I was a book nerd, I loved to write, to read, and it was my favorite pass time, I saw a cute one that had embedded gold flowers decorating the brown cover, and small words notebook embedded on the front, I took this one for what we where going to do. Then looked around for another one that had silver designs, and I found one with a maroon colored cover with roses drawn with only silver lines, “perfect, these will do,” I told Alpha Stan who took the rest away back to their bookcase, “I take it you love books?” He asked me attentively