Hello, there!

The House At the very edge of nowhere, where GPS signals got lazy and birds flew in circles like they were lost too, stood a house that had long since retired from polite society. It wasn’t haunted in the traditional sense—no creaking attic demons or moaning mirrors—but it did hum with the kind of lived-in drama you’d expect from a place that had seen love letters scribbled on napkins and arguments thrown like dishes. The porch greeted you with a groan, but not a threatening one—more like the sigh of an old auntie who has seen too much and is mildly judging your shoes. Vines had taken liberties with the siding, curling in all the right (and wrong) places, like nature trying its hand at interior design. A shutter hung at a 45-degree angle, as though too emotionally exhausted to stay upright. Dust coated every surface with the kind of flair that screamed “vintage,” and inside, the smell was part wood, part memory, part “someone used to burn cinnamon candles here.” The air was thick with ...