Adventures
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Porticos: When a House Remembers More Than You Do – And It Wants You To Too.
The front door clicked shut. I hadn't opened it. A solid *thunk* of old wood meeting old frame. The house breathed around me, a symphony of settled timbers, the distant hum of traffic. No breeze stirred, no phantom draft rattled. Just the click. And then, a silence deeper than before, as if the very air…