Noah was just a boy with burnt toast in his pocket and a secret. Every morning, he gave it away to someone no one else would touch. They said the dog was dirty, dangerous, diseased. But Noah never flinched. He saw something worth saving. And one day, that something came back—with a name tag that […]
He hadn’t worn his turnout gear in 11 years—but he still smelled the smoke. The dog beside him was all he’d managed to save. They never talked about the little girl they didn’t pull out. Until one day, a letter arrived. And the past limped back into his life… wagging its tail. Part 1: Ashes
He hadn’t fired his rifle in twelve years. Not since the night his son left and his wife wept by the fire until morning. Now the leaves whispered like old ghosts, and something was watching him back. He came for a clean ending. But the woods had other plans. 🔹 Part 1 – Opening Chapter
He found it buried beneath a stack of vinyl records and broken clocks. A battered sketchbook, pages stained with dust and time—filled with drawings of camels, sunsets, and war. There was something haunting in the way the figures stared back from the paper. The young artist didn’t know whose hands had drawn them… but he
He never said “I love you.” Not once—not after Little League, graduation, or even the day I left home. But one summer, he handed me the keys to his old truck… And in that silence, he told me everything. I didn’t understand it then. I do now. Part 1: The Box on the Kitchen Table
The attic smelled like dust and old regrets. She wasn’t looking for answers—just a place to start letting go. Then she found the typewriter. And the first letter addressed to her, in her father’s awkward, blocky type. “To my little bird. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was sick.” 🟫 Part 1 – The
She didn’t whimper when the needle went in—just blinked up at me with those cloudy eyes. Every Wednesday at 10:45, she limps in and curls up by the front desk. No barking. No leash tugging. Just quiet, old-dog waiting. Beside her sits a bunny in a vest, a lizard in a shoebox, and a cockatoo
She was just looking for winter quilts in the attic Instead, she found a Kodak box sealed since 1974. Inside? One camera. One undeveloped roll of film. What she saw changed everything. Because some summers never leave you — even if you forget to remember. 📖 Kodak Days – Part 1: The Drawer Beneath the
He never wanted to come back to that stretch of desert. But the nightmares didn’t stop — not even after twenty years. One name still haunted him more than the fallen: the one who saved him. Now, he’s finally tracked down the medic who pulled him from the flames. But the truth waiting for him
She came home to bury her mother — and found the man she never got to say goodbye to. Tucked in a box beneath the attic floor were thirty yellowing letters, never opened. All written by the soldier she once loved, from the jungles of Vietnam. All hidden by the woman who raised her —
