Small Pleasures Book Novels & Stories

The scent of coffee lingered faint‍ly‍ in the‍ air. ‎ ‎⁠I touched the spine of a book at random. “The Ar‍t of War.” Typical‌, I thoug‌ht, and almo‍st laughed. Then I noti⁠ced the one beside it—“The Little Prince.” ‎ ‎I sm‌iled. That tiny‍, une‌xpected softness said mo⁠re about Damon than any i⁠nterview o⁠r ru⁠m‌or ever could.

She must admit Rosa cooked the best food ever. That night, they enjoyed dinner having all the food she prepared all together. Her Dad and Rosa complimented the food she cooked and that truly warmed her heart. She suddenly missed the two, most especially her Dad. Their bantering and how they play chess. She realized it's been months since the last time she travel back home and she suddenly missed this kind of feeling. She was glad to be home, her mind calmed somehow, and forgot the problem she was carrying for a moment. After dinner, they proceed to the patio and have tea, the usual thing they do after dinner.

I smiled, “Of course. Help yourself.” She looked at the large selection and asked, “I would love to read, Little Women. Is that okay?” I smiled, “Of course. That one is a classic in the human world. It is really good.” She sat in the corner of the sectional and stretched out on the short end while I sat at my desk and started entering receipts. When Isaac came back with a cardboard carton of food, he had another filled with a variety of cakes and cookies, “They aren’t as good as my mate’s homemade treats, but they are delicious.”

After he turned around, Stella had already gone to the washroom to remove her facial mask. Keegan sat on the sofa and saw a book on the coffee table. He grabbed it and took a look. It was The Little Prince. It seemed as though the book had been flipped through many times. The pages were loose. The corners of the pages were slightly rolled. A bookmark was used to mark one page of the book. On that page, a sentence was marked with a highlighter. "Cherish the opportunity to watch the sunrise with your loved one now. Don't regret missing out on it during your twilight years."

The sounds of sizzling filled the air, the scent of butter and spice warming the room. When she plated the food, she sat at the long counter and ate slowly, the silence somehow comforting. "Not bad for midnight cooking," she said to herself with a small smile. After cleaning up, she wandered back to her room, full and a little more relaxed. She picked up the book she’d been reading, one she found tucked on a high shelf in the mansion's library. It was a romance. The kind with soft words, stolen kisses, and a girl who finally found her forever.

They had never imagined that their small act of kindness so many years ago would have such a lasting impact. The next day, Samantha and Andrew received a package in the mail. It was from the couple they had met the night before. Inside was a note, along with a book and a photo. The note said, "Thank you for showing us the power of kindness and compassion. We hope you enjoy this book as much as we did, and that you find the same inspiration in it that we did." The book was called "The Ripple Effect," and it was about how small actions can have a big impact. The photo was of the boy, now a grown man, and his wife, with their two children.

Her wanderings led her to a momentary pause, her gaze fixated on a room visible through the translucent Thai glass. Intrigued by the mysterious room, Hazel gingerly turned the knob and stepped into what appeared to be a sanctuary of knowledge, lined with towering bookshelves. The air inside was laced with the scent of aged paper. What is it? Is he really fond of books? Her fingers traced the spines of the books. Unable to resist the allure, Hazel reached for a book titled "Little Women." Leaning against its edge, she resisted the urge to sit and instead propped herself up, opening the book to its first page.

He said With the exception of the sound of their forks clinking against their plates, they dined in pleasant silence. It was a straightforward, peaceful moment—a minor triumph in a day full of significant choices. They sipped mugs of hot tea while sitting on the couch after supper. There was a soft hum coming from the television. It had been a while since Annabel had felt at peace. It seemed to her that she was in the right place. “I have something for you.” Fred said He handed her the little leather-bound book he had reached for on the coffee table. “While in the city today I noticed this. I was reminded of you.” He said.

I don’t try touching it again. Closing the box, I approach the shelves. I take out the book closest to me. Brushing off the dust, I realize it’s a strategy book, written in delicate penmanship. The paper is fragile, but the tome is bound with great care. The other side of the shelf seems to have hard-bound journals. It’s like an entire couple’s life secured in one small room. I hear a scraping sound, and I turn my head to see Robert picking up a stack of small portraits from one of the iron boxes in the corner.

"What do you want to remember about it?" Elijah thought about this. He thought about the recipe book and the garden and the coffee and the Sundays and the Tuesdays and the thousands of small moments that had made up the year. He thought about the way Alexander looked when he was reading—the reading glasses, the focused attention, the way his lips moved slightly when he was reading something difficult. He thought about the sound of Alexander's laugh, the real one, the one that had started with a flour bag and had become more frequent over time, appearing in unexpected places, surprising them both. "The small things," he said. "I want to remember the small things."