The term "cubicle" has been employed by various authors to evoke both physical confinement and subtle layers of meaning within a space. In Rudyard Kipling's work, for instance, the cubicle is intriguingly juxtaposed with a sculpture-lined gallery, hinting at a merging of creative and mundane environments [1]. Jesse F. Bone presents it as a sharply defined, almost probing space when Kennon gazes into it [2]. Katherine Mansfield uses the word in dual moods—first, to accentuate an atmosphere of detachment in a cold, glittering enclosure [3], and later, to introduce a sensuous, inviting refuge marked by warm, scented air hidden behind a velvet curtain [4]. Meanwhile, James Joyce adopts an understated utilitarian approach by simply labeling it, as in "cubicle number," thereby stripping it of sentimental texture and focusing on its function [5].