Rummaging by Roland Goity
In the cottage attic, trunks creak open and the scent of old linen drifts down with the dust. Rummaging is about sifting through the past, turning over objects that stir memory, regret, and unexpected discovery. It reminds us that the things we leave behind are never truly gone; they are only waiting to be found again.
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Jenny's Secret by Mini Rosen
Every woven wall in the cottage holds whispers, stories untold, and confidences that hover like threads of smoke above the fire. Jenny's Secret slips into this space perfectly, a tale where silence speaks as strongly as words, and where the keeper of the secret is changed forever by its weight.
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Orla's Corner: Whisper from Connemara
There’s a place far to the west, called Loch Con Aortha. The old ones say the name means a hound on the heart vein, and when you stand there, you can feel it, the air pulling at your chest like breath itself. I walked that beach once, long before I knew how to collect secrets. The sand seemed to listen, and the sea carried words in Irish, the kind you only half-understand but never forget. Even now, when the evening wind sharpens on Lough Owel, I hear it again, that pulse, that tide, returning.
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The Heart Jar by L. Freshwater
On a shelf in the cottage, there are jars that hold more than herbs or buttons. Some are filled with memories too fragile to name. The Heart Jar is a story of what we keep, what we preserve, and what refuses to be sealed away. It belongs in the quiet cupboard of the Weaver’s Cottage, where the air itself remembers.
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