She named him before she believed he was real. Every night at sunset, he stood perfectly still—like he was waiting for something that never came. She spoke to him through the window, whispered secrets only grief could keep. They said it was silly. Said she was imagining things. Until the night the dog turned his …
Some pawprints never fade, no matter how many years pass. They lead us back to the people we miss, the homes we lost, the hearts we once trusted. Jamie never meant to follow them—not into the woods, not into the past, not into the arms of a dog who already knew him. But sometimes, the …
He sat alone while everyone else got matched. No friend. No ping. No notification. Just a broken boy holding hands with silence. Until the dog came limping down the alley— unwanted, unscanned, and just like him. Part 1 — Something the Code Forgot The children all had someone by lunchtime. Little screens blinked and chimed …
She never told a soul she was hungry. Not the mailman, not her daughter, not even God on the loneliest nights. But the dog knew. He waited behind the food pantry, silent under the splintered table like an old memory come back to breathe. And one day, what she thought was forgotten, came walking back …
A three-legged dog showed up the day after Eli stopped speaking. He didn’t bark, didn’t beg—just slept on the old doghouse like he was guarding ghosts. No one knew why the boy kept sneaking out with his notebook and shovel. No one but the dog. And maybe… the sister Eli never talks about anymore. Part …
Liam heard panting where there should’ve been silence. The wall thumped like a heartbeat no one else believed in. His mother said it was pipes, or maybe dreams—but he knew better. Somehow, sorrow had teeth, and hope had paws. And behind the drywall, something forgotten was still waiting to be loved. Part 1: The Wall …
They say the earth forgets. But sometimes, it remembers in rust and ink and broken promises. A dog named Tater Tot dug up more than just a time capsule—he unearthed a warning Arthur Linwood had tried to forget. Buried by children who once believed their teacher could save the world. And one of them had …
He forgot his wife’s name, but remembered how her hand felt in winter. Some nights, he wandered into the past like it was a room with no door. No one knew where he went—until a dog showed them. Not just any dog. A dog who knew the way memory hides in the scent of things. …
Every afternoon, he climbed six flights of rusted stairs just to finish his homework. But one day, a dog was waiting for him—mangy, trembling, and loyal beyond reason. They say Wi-Fi is everywhere, but not where it matters most. Sometimes a stray finds you when you’re the one who’s been left behind. And sometimes, the …
She wouldn’t let anyone near the wreckage. Not the cops. Not the rescue teams. Not even the man with the kind voice. Her paws were cut, ribs showing—but her eyes dared you to come closer. Some said she was crazy. Others said she was broken. But Milly was guarding something the storm didn’t take. Part …
He waited beside the wrong kind of pump. Nose to the wind, tail curled tight, watching every car that didn’t stop. Time moved on — shiny, silent, electric. But he remembered the rumble of a V8 and the cough of an old man’s laugh. And some memories, God help them, refuse to die just because …
They called her “Mouse.” Said she talked like one. But behind the cafeteria, where laughter turned cruel, something growled louder. Not everyone who’s bitten stays broken. Some learn to bite back—with teeth, or with courage. And sometimes, a mangy dog knows exactly who deserves saving. Part 1 — The Dog That Bit Back Most of …
He tied his mother’s red scarf around the neck of a dog no one else wanted. Some things you give away because you’re too young to understand what they mean. Years later, that same scarf walked back into his life—on four legs. Sometimes, the heart remembers what the mind forgets. And sometimes, the door you …
Under the bleachers, where the world forgot to look, two broken souls found each other. A girl hiding from laughter that wasn’t kind. A dog limping through the ache of something he couldn’t remember. They didn’t speak, but grief knows its own in silence. And what they found in that shadowed place would change everything. …
Every year, the sky cracked open and Micah Lane counted the seconds between flashes. Not because he loved fireworks—but because he couldn’t outrun what came after. That night, a dog appeared in his yard, barking like its heart was breaking. He thought it was just another creature afraid of the noise. He didn’t know it …