Small Pocketbook Novels & Stories

I pulled out the small suitcase from the wardrobe and started going through the drawers, moving quickly, taking only what I actually needed and leaving the rest. The expensive things Perry had bought me, the jewelry and the silk scarves and the shoes that had cost more than most people's monthly rent, I left all of it exactly where it was. None of it was mine in any way that mattered. I was almost done when I opened the last drawer, the deep one at the very bottom of the bedside cabinet, the one I had not opened since I had arrived. And there it was. A small notebook; dark blue cover, worn at the corners, the pages slightly swollen from age. I had forgotten exactly where I had hidden it.

How close it might have been to her not being here now. I scrunch them in my hands and feel for anything hard. I check the back pockets. Nothing. Then I slide my hand into the front bib pocket. My fingers hit something soft. I pull the object out. It’s a tiny plush disc with a smiley face. I stare at it. My pulse shifts. I squeeze it carefully. Something hard and flat is inside. I can feel the outline of it. I close it in my palm. “How’s Tessa?” Her voice slides across my spine. I shove the clothing back into the bag and as I turn I stick the disc into my back pocket.

That is what I am starting to believe, and I think Pierce has done so for some time. “Got it?” He pushes off the doorframe, extending his arm out for me to take. “Yep, got it.” “A shoebox with stickers on?” “No, it’s my memory box…with…” I pull the lid off, reaching in for my Mum’s small black leather pocket book. It had every contact, every business deal, every bank account in her name…including every password. “This.” “And what is this?” He asks, sceptical of the small book in my hand.

She cheerfully nodded. "Of course sir thank you for your service, that'll be 2 silver coins." Alkhun looks at the other books while waiting for the ebook to get signed. He noticed the book series and it added up to 5 books. Is it really fiction? He read the publication date of the latest book and it was a year ago. It is a myth after all. Sophia handed the book and Alkhun handed the payment and put it into his dimensional bag. "That's all you buy for today?" He nodded.

Chapter 1 - Maiden Voyage Dorin took what little treasures he had – a small notebook half full of questions he have yet to find answers to, a pocket watch engraved with a seal and a discernable name, his mother's ring that still won't fit his fingers, a silver knife, and what little money he found in the emergency bottle hidden at the back of the top pantry shelf. He placed them all in a small bag he made from an old empty sack of flour and filled it with as much food as he could carry. Besides, who knows how far this 'University' could be? Who knows how long the trip might take?

Not anymore. Moving with a sudden, sharp burst of adrenaline, I dragged my old, faded canvas duffel bag out from the closet and threw it onto the bed. The zipper caught twice, a testament to how worn out it was, but I yanked it open. It honestly didn't take long to pack my entire life into a single, small bag. A few oversized, faded sweaters, my two favorite pairs of worn-out jeans, a couple of books, and the absolute basic essentials were all I truly owned in this world. As I cleared out the top drawer of my scratched wooden nightstand, making sure I didn't leave any important documents behind, my fingers suddenly brushed against a small, velvet pouch hidden in the very back corner.

“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.

The world had returned to small humiliations and silly victories, and it was intoxicating. By mid-afternoon we drifted toward the quieter side of the shopping street, where smaller shops clustered — a bookshop with a bell that sang when the door opened, a tiny florist, and then the one that made my steps slow without my permission: a baby boutique. It sat between a bakery and a tailor, its window dressed in soft pastels and tiny hangers holding impossibly small clothes. A knitted blanket draped like a secret across the display, and mobile animals swayed slowly as if asleep.

The Schmidt family was toast. [Rowina always seemed so kind at those charity galas, but wow—sharp-tongued and bitter. Yikes.] [Looks can be deceiving. Honestly, her sour face said it all.] [Not surprised. Back in college, Neil briefly dated a girl from the econ department. Rowina had someone threaten her and mocked her for being a "small-town nobody." Total witch.] [Rich people always think they can get away with this nonsense.] [Neil Schmidt is a washed-up cucumber. Dude's not the prize he thinks he is.]

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.