Invited Seat

The year has passed by in a blur. Between a personal issue and my day job cranked to eleven, I saw the genre poll’s conclusion coming, but pulling the results still took time. However, I didn’t start working on the story until this past Friday. By chance, my “note” stories have a decent formula to assist the writing process. While I admit there’s a formula, it’s only used to create the rough framework of the story. Once those beams are in place, the rest comes together at breakneck speed.

I still needed a prompt to create the story, and while I’d intended to use The Story Engine, I ended up grabbing my story cubes and giving them a toss. The results were a flute (or flute-like instrument), a cabin, and a roasting animal (a pig to my eye). Since I was short on time, I turned to ChatGPT for a rough idea. Alas, they didn’t resonate, nor were they in line with my “note” tales. So, I dismissed the words and buckled down to draft the story myself.

On the edge of the known, and the forgotten, music becomes more than a melody, it becomes memory. In this haunting tale, the flicker of firelight and the murmur of a flute weave a story of longing, legacy, and the strange ways we are remembered. Inside the cabin, nestled within a forest, everything seems ordinary, but those who take time to listen know it’s more than shelter. It’s a place of choice and invitation. For one unsettled spirit, it’s the beginning of an unexpected understanding.

The story centers on a question that aging prompts. What will I leave behind? Significance isn’t in showy actions, but in hidden ones. This is a muted exploration of purpose and presence, wrapped in mystery and music. Life rarely offers simple solutions, yet if you possess enough clarity, you’ll find an answer even if you’re not pleased with it. If you’re drawn to stories that unfold like a whispered secret, rich in atmosphere, simmering with emotion, and the slow burn of truth, this one’s for you.

A ghost returns is directed to a cabin where she finds her flute and a stranger…

A ghost emerged from the forest’s shadows, finding smoke curling from a cabin’s chimney, drifting toward the trees. When it collided with the branches, the smoke dispersed, creating a faint fog hanging over the warm cabin. The shade looked down and re-read the note.

You must enter to find your answers.

As the ghost laid her fingers upon the logs, a series of faint cracks and pops rushed from under the door. She hesitated, then drifted her head through the building’s side. Once her eyes passed through the wooden beams, she discovered the source of the sound, a fire with something dangling over the flames.

With a sharp inhalation, she flowed through the wall and searched the interior of the open chamber. Aside from the fire and its hearth, clutter filled every inch of the space. After her rushed examination, she discovered a woman sitting on a rough-hewn chair. The woman sat still, peering through the open window.

The shade shook her head and drifted away from the solitary figure. However, before she wafted too far, the soft sounds of a flute filled the cabin. As the familiar sounds enveloped the shade, she whirled toward the source. Several seconds later, the woman stopped playing and laid the instrument on the windowsill as she turned toward the fire and walked toward it.

While the woman tended the fire and meat, the ghost drifted over to the flute, scrutinizing the silver-plated instrument. Her ethereal fingers glided over the familiar keys as her gaze drifted toward the woman. “Why am I here? And why does she have my flute?”