Posts by natwater
The Postcards That Never Came
Every morning at eight, Mrs. Hattie Crowe walked to the end of Sycamore Lane with her straw hat, her cane, and a hope she refused to let die. The postman would tip his hat, hand her a few bills or a flyer, and she’d glance through them quickly before asking, as always, “Anything from Jonah?”…
Read MoreThe Last Light in Bramble Hollow
When the power first went out, nobody in Bramble Hollow thought much of it. The tiny mountain town had seen its share of outages—storms rolling through, knocking over the same tired power lines, and leaving everyone in candlelight until the repair trucks groaned up the hill. But this time was different. No storm, no wind,…
Read MoreThe Clockmaker’s Gift
In the center of Marigold Square stood a tiny shop squeezed between a bakery and a florist. Its sign read E. Davenant, Clockmaker, though most people called it the ticking shop. Every hour of the day, a hundred clocks chimed together—grandfather clocks, cuckoo clocks, pocket watches, each with its own voice, its own rhythm. Mr.…
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