2025.07.27
In the calm city of Noreil, there was a hall which had no door but a velvet and a heavy veil of shadow. Many people dared to step, and even very few people returned. The people of the town whispered with a woman named Jane, who was beyond the veil, was neither completely alive nor went completely.
Jane was the doorstep keeper.
His role was not a protector, but was to remember. Every soul that passes is missed – sometimes vivid, sometimes ends. Jane did not talk much, but when she did so, her words resonated with hundreds of lifetime. Its presence was soft and permanent, as the last sound that hears before sleep.
She was often sitting at the fire lace stick, her eyes closed, her fingers used to detect samples not visible in the air. Some people said that she could remember the last thought of a crying widow or a newborn’s first laughter, which has not been a long time. He remembered incomplete lolis, forgotten promises, blurred names in the sand.
People bring their posts, pictures, things very heavy. He never kept them – just stopped them briefly, then robbed them a little, a little less faster.
One day, the veil itself was lifted. The people of the city took a hug expecting change, but nothing was found. Jane sat unconsciously smiling. Someone had crossed. Or maybe returned.
In any way, the balance was maintained.