Small Spaces Book Novels & Stories

It’s like something pressed into my skin and has decided not to leave. “You’re overthinking,” I mutter under my breath, shifting slightly against the couch. My apartment is quiet, Smaller than the shop, but also neater. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. The couch tucked under the window, curtains drawn halfway to block out the dark and a single lamp spills warm light across the room, soft and steady, wrapping everything in something familiar. It might be small but it’s Safe and it’s home. It’s always been home and my little safe haven, It’s supposed to feel safe. I drag the blanket higher, forcing my eyes back down to the book as I push down my fear concentrating on the book on my lap

It is a short book and it will oy take little of your time. Thanks so much in advance. Asah-nancy

A clearing, she thought, in this world of canyons and valleys and towering stacks. “Your recent stuff?” She stuck her head in. Looked around. “Not as used or as old,” he said. “But more interesting.” He paused. “You can go in, if you like.” It called to her, the room. The compact space feeling as large as a luxury walk-in closet, the walls, were she to stretch her arms, fingertip to fingertip, spanning out of her reach. The pale leather of the books felt familiar. The low shelves safe. The gentle lighting kind.

I said, taking the bags. "You said emergency. Emergencies require sustenance." I let him in, suddenly aware of how small my apartment was. How personal. He'd never been here before. He stood in the doorway, looking around. "This is very... you," he said. "Meaning?" "Books everywhere." He gestured at the stacks on every surface. "Black furniture. Minimalist. And is that plant alive?" I glanced at the fern in the corner. Brown. Crispy. Definitely dead.

Without waiting for Roxanne to speak, she brushed past her and walked away, the maid behind Roxanne followed her and the two ladies left Roxanne standing in front of the door with so many questions. She took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm her anxiety, before pushing the door open. This was the last room in the corridor and by far the smallest she had seen. The smell of damp undergarments, sweat and feminine deodorant hit her immediately. As she looked around the room, she could see that it was half the size of other rooms she had peeped into, and there were four bunks present in this one! There was barely enough space for three people to stand on the floor at once. Yet, eight people

Rosaline leaned against the door of her studio apartment as William looked around. Her studio apartment, as its name suggested, was small. It had a bed on the alleviated platform that used glass panes to separate it from other spaces, one couch that could get doubled as a bed, a sofa, two small tables, two chairs, a small kitchen with a small island, and a small bathroom. She had fitted wall cupboards in every available space. She had turned the wall beside her bed into a bookshelf.

"Finally home!" Cela said to herself as soon as she stepped inside her apartment. It's still bare but already messy. Papers are everywhere and trash cans are full of empty soda bottles, instant noodle bowls, and take out containers. The evidence of working almost non-stop prior to the release of the second book are still inside the house. She couldn't even find time to take them out.

"Oh, come! Let's go inside." The office itself was about the size of a small living room and cozy like one. There was a little space between the chair behind the desk and the wall and a little more space between the guest chairs at the front of the desk and the weighty shelves behind them. Avera began to pick up some of the books from the ground as the others made their way to their chairs, Dorothy to the spot behind the desk and Benjamin to the far side of the room, across from the door.