01
The Thirteenth Stop
An elevator stops on a floor that does not exist — and the narrator's wife has been setting an extra place at the table, every single night.
"The place settings stopped growing after five. Tonight makes forty-three nights of riding."
02
The Machine Still Takes Messages
Her mother's answering machine is still taking messages. The newest one is from the narrator — left the night before she died, in her voice.
"It uses my name like it was a stranger's."
03
The Boy Who Knew the Dark
At 2 a.m., the boy who used to live in the closet is standing in the doorway — exactly the age he was the last time he was seen, twenty-nine years ago.
"You look like you've been keeping them out all by yourself."
04
Room 214
The clerk hands over a key to Room 214 — the number of the room the narrator grew up in. But the house they grew up in had no room numbers.
"I knew before I turned it that I was in trouble."
05
The Man Behind the Glass
A seven-dollar yard-sale mirror shows a reflection three seconds behind — which is how you know it isn't a mirror at all.
"A mirror wouldn't be trying to catch up."
06
3:13 A.M.
His father's radio picks up a voice that sounds exactly like his, reading tomorrow's news. Last night, it read his obituary.
"It got my age wrong by a year, which I have decided to find comforting."
07
Three Knocks, Then Three More
Three knocks, a pause, three knocks — every night, for three nights. The knocking has not once come from the door.
"It would have been easy if it were the door. It is getting closer."