The gate had always stayed open. Through storms and seasons, it never latched. Some thought the owners forgot. Others said it was haunted.But he knew the truth. It was left open on purpose. In case someone ever needed to come home—even i...

There were walls. A roof. A floor that creaked, and windows that framed the trees. But the cabin had no doors. No furniture. No fire in the hearth.He had started it with hope once—but walked away before the last nails were set.Now...

One feather. Then another. Each day, a quiet offering. He didn’t know where they came from—only that something gentle was reaching out. Not with noise, not with answers—but with presence.The Feather on the Steps is a soft story ...

He hadn’t opened that door in years. It didn’t hold ghosts—just dust, and memory, and the ache of time passing. Inside was a photo, a watch, and the silence of someone who once mattered deeply. He didn’t come to fix anything....

Every evening, just before dusk, he turned the porch light on. Not to keep anyone out—but in case someone was still finding their way home. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t expect visitors. But the light stayed on…because once, it saved him too....