Pocketbook Organizer Novels & Stories

He carefully wrapped the canvas pieces together with strips of fabric he tore from his own clothes. His most precious find, however, was a cache of dried berries and seeds. He recognized some of them from his childhood – hardy plants that survived even the harshest conditions. These would offer a meager source of sustenance during his journey. He meticulously stored them in the pockets of his jacket and secured his metal bucket and canvas patches to his backpack, every piece of his scavenged hoard precious. He even managed to salvage a broken piece of mirror, reflecting only a distorted image, yet invaluable for checking his condition.

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.

Mia checked and double-checked her handbag to make sure she had everything she’d need for her first day at The Playbook. She had her pocket-sized portfolio, her wallet, apartment keys, phone, and mints, plus all the rest of the crap that filled her handbag like tampons and old shopping receipts, and tissues.

“Sure! I’ll just fetch my pocket in my room.” He dashed back to his room. I waited on the couch, tapping my feet on the floor. He came back a few seconds and I noticed that there was a bump inside the pockets of his shorts. His purse might have a lot of coins. Jay would have two different money storage methods. A wallet where he puts his cards and bills, and a purse where he puts coins and smaller bills. Since we booked our house with dozens of groceries, he exchanges the coins he got into a bill. It’s a kind of saving up thing for him.

For a moment, I just looked at it, then walked over, unzipped it, and reached inside. My hand closed around my wallet first. Then my documents. Then, the small things I always carried with me without thinking about it. I placed them neatly on the table, one after the other. I pulled out my phone again and opened a booking app, my fingers moving without pause as I searched for a storage service. It didn’t take long. I selected one, chose the size, confirmed the next day's time, and completed the booking in less than a minute. I set the phone down and looked at it for a second, then let out a quiet breath, something close to a laugh but without any real humor.