When I finished Secrecy’s Cost, I turned my attention to this month’s Ghost Story. I considered revisiting my ghostly detective, but instead chose to return to the note-bound encounters that began with Journey of Thanks. What started as an experiment has grown into a format I genuinely enjoy writing. It has settled into a rhythm that feels both intimate and reflective.
These stories revolve around unseen impact. They explore what becomes of the small moments we offer freely. A few words spoken in passing, a meal quietly paid for, or a steady hand extended at the right time. We rarely witness what follows. We rarely know whether those gestures carried more weight than we realized.
In this installment, a restless shade is guided by a note she cannot remove and a deadline she cannot miss. Drawn into an ordinary kitchen on a typical morning, she watches a stranger begin his day, unaware that their lives once intersected. The air is warm, the stove hums, and memory begins to stir.
This is a quiet meditation on the ripples we leave behind. If you have ever wondered whether your smallest kindness truly changed anything, this story lingers in that question. The excerpt below carries you to the edge of revelation. The full answer and its emotional weight wait for patrons.
Excerpt of Ripple’s Reach
The shade raised her hand and reviewed the note embedded in her palm. A shudder rippled through her phantom frame as she picked at the sheet’s edges. Despite several attempts, she couldn’t slip her ghostly finger under a fluttering edge. She clenched her fist, crumpling the sheet as she turned to study the stranger’s home. She drifted through the hallway, the paper’s hollow crinkle following her.
When she came to the first door, she placed her note-covered palm against the smooth surface. She glanced at the photographs lining the wall behind her and closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips into the wood. The shade released her meaningless breath and pressed herself through the barrier. She rose into the air and surveyed the area. She glanced down at her guide to remind herself of where she was heading.
Enter the house and make your way to the kitchen by 7:42 a.m.
She lowered her arm, then turned left, entering the room the note commanded. As she crossed the threshold, her ethereal gaze drifted to the stove’s digital clock. “It’s 7:41. I’m here, but what’ll happen next?”
She whirled about like a top losing its momentum. As she stilled, the display shifted to 7:42, and a stranger entered the kitchen, dropping a paper onto the countertop before heading to his refrigerator. As he searched the fridge, she flowed to the counter and read the note.
Remember to breathe. One thing at a time. You are stronger than you imagine.
“That sounds familiar,” the ghost said as her gaze rose toward the man. “Why do they stir something in me?”
As a phone rang out through the kitchen, the stranger answered his cell, bringing it up to his ear. He plucked a skillet off his wall and laid it down on the stovetop before turning the burner on. “Hello, how are you doing?”
The shade drifted towards the individual. Her eyes widened as she drew nearer. Her form inverted, and she stared at the words, scratching her head. She twisted her neck and floated back toward the stranger. “Why does his voice feel like something I lost? It’s as if I’ve heard it before?”
With a wince, her fingers clenched. She glanced down at the note that had guided her here.
At bus stops, you steadied strangers. You covered the cost of meals that went unseen. You offered words of encouragement that kept people upright. While you may not recall this man’s face, you altered the course of his life.
“How? When did I change him?”
The stranger’s soft chuckle filled the kitchen before he turned and walked through the shade. He grabbed the note as he chewed his lower lip. “Several years ago, I didn’t have shelter and nobody was looking for me.”
Another bout of laughter rang out as he stepped toward the refrigerator and secured the paper under a half-lime magnet. He traced the words as his lips curled into a smile. “Yeah, I’m aware of the irony. I’ve progressed significantly since those dark days.”
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