Small Pocketbook Novels & Stories

But then, I felt something in my pocket. I reached in and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. It wasn't a silver envelope. It wasn't a corporate report. It was a page from a book. On it, in a messy, handwritten script, were four words: **[START FROM THE BEGINNING.]**

Unobtrusive. She pulled it out and began packing with systematic precision. Two changes of clothes. Comfortable. Easy to move in. Underwear. Socks. A jacket that didn't look expensive but was warm. Toiletries in travel sizes. The small amount of cash she had saved from household allowances over the years, folded flat in a zippered compartment. Her passport, expired but still valid identification. The notebook. A phone charger—though she had no phone now, she would need it later.

This thing is absolutely priceless, a must for traveling too. Luna didn’t have one, yet she was willing to give it to Alex just like that, which was very generous of her. Alex then inserted his spiritual conscience into the area within the storage purse and realized that it was around ten cubic inches, a rather large space considering it was just a purse. Most were just a few cubic inches after all. If one only had one cubic inch, the owner could only store some important personal items. Surprisingly, a sword and a worn-out talisman were inside.

I want to start a conversation to reduced my boredom and know him better, but he seemed a carbon copy of Grayson because they had the same posture. Nicho was quiet, not talkative, annoys you with his silence and even make you out of place because he's a bookworm to me. Where did he even get that book? Maybe he put the book to his pocket, that's why I didn't see it? Wait, but that is not small book either. "It fits my pocket," he spoke. "What?" I stuttered. He take a quick glanced at me before turning back at the book, "This book fits my pocket. If you're wondering how I able to bring this."

The door closed behind him and made a beeping sound, showing it had locked automatically. I let out a sigh as I stared at the different package on the center table. I was yet to open any of them. I picked up the one Easton had given me for Alfred and opened it first. A small smile plastered on my face when I saw the little spider man outfit in the box. It even had a small tech device that I assumed was supposed to shoot out fake webs like the spider man in the movie. “Alfred would love this.” I muttered to myself before packing it back. I picked up the one he had given me and opened it. It was a small black book with a note on top.

"Look on the spine. A hidden pocket. Tiny. Press it." My breath caught. I turned the book, running my fingers along the edge of the spine. There—it was subtle, nearly invisible—but a faint seam showed itself. I pressed it. Click. A small piece popped out—no bigger than a button. Without thinking, I pressed it. "Ow!" I yelped, yanking my hand back. A sharp sting on my finger. Simon stepped forward, instantly alert. "What happened?" But before I could answer, the clasp on the book shimmered with light—and then unlatched itself.

I walk inside, the bell above the door jingling. The warmth inside smells of cheap coffee, diesel, and stale tobacco. A young woman with heavy black eyeliner sits behind the counter, snapping pink bubblegum while scrolling on her phone. I grab a gallon of water and a cheap peanut butter protein bar, setting them on the counter. I pull Pyotr’s crumpled rubles from my pocket and smooth them out on the glass. The girl stops chewing, her eyes sliding over my filthy clothes, matted hair, and bloody wrist bandages.

“By the way, if anyone asks, this never happened.” “Got it,” I said. I peered into the drawer. It was mostly empty; just a couple of boxes containing some expensive jewelry and a designer watch. Far in the back, though, tucked right up against the wall, was a small leather pouch. I pulled the pouch out and opened it. It contained a few items—a platinum credit card. A checkbook that looked like it hadn’t been used in ages. The receipts for the other items in the drawer. But there was one folded up piece of paper that caught my eye.

However, as Professor Miles goes to place her bag back on the floor he notices the small inner zip pocket is half open, and there is something sitting inside it. Letting the bag rest on her again, he opens it, unzips the small pocket all the way and pulls out a small round plastic disc container.

Oh, I also saw a lot of business books, never knew Nate was a reader. After over thirty minutes of flipping pages of finances, old tax forms and various contracts, I gave up. I was about to sit back down when my eyes caught a little drawer on his desk. It was almost nonexistent, like it wasn’t supposed to be part of the design, but the designer decided to include it last minute. Quickly, I opened it, the small knob of the drawer feeling like a secret door knob. There was only a piece of paper, the edges rough, like it was torn out of a pack of compiled folders.