The Things That Remember Us

Posted on 11/19/2025 by mapoll

There are places we leave behind, objects we stop using, and moments we tuck away because life pushes us forward faster than we realize. Yet every now and then, something small catches our attention and reminds us that the past has its own way of lingering. I have always believed that the world holds more memory than we understand, and that familiar things sometimes remember us long after we have forgotten them.

Not long ago, I found an old trinket on a high shelf while dusting. It was a gift from someone I had not thought about in years. The moment I touched it, a strange wave of recognition washed over me. It was more than nostalgia. It felt alive. As if the object itself had been waiting patiently for me to notice it again. I stood there longer than I meant to, caught in a feeling that was half warmth and half something I could not quite name.

I think this happens to all of us. We pick up a book we once loved and feel a sudden tug in our chest. We step into a room we have not visited in years, and the air seems thick with a memory that has been quietly breathing behind the walls. Even a simple scent can pull an entire moment back into existence with startling clarity. It makes you wonder if memories truly disappear, or if they simply go quiet until the right moment wakes them.

As a supernatural thriller author, I have learned to listen to these moments. They are seeds for stories. Places where the seen and unseen come together. Sometimes I imagine that forgotten objects absorb pieces of our lives. A chair remembers who sat in it. A doorway remembers who crossed beneath it in joy or in fear. A necklace remembers the warmth of the hand that held it on a difficult day. These imaginings may sound fanciful, but they have guided many of my characters and shaped countless scenes.

And perhaps there is truth in them. We know that emotions cling to us. Why not to the world around us?

There is something comforting in the idea that we leave imprints behind, even in the smallest things. Something that says our lives ripple out farther than we imagine. Something that reminds us we are part of a much larger story, and that story continues even when we are not watching.

So the next time you stumble across something you have not seen in years, pause. Let yourself feel whatever rises. Do not rush past it. These moments are gifts, and sometimes, they are messages. Sometimes they are warnings. And every now and then, they are invitations into a mystery you did not know you were ready to face.

The world remembers more than we think. The question is whether we are willing to listen.

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Beneath Ordinary Light

Posted on 11/12/2025 by mapoll

It is easy to think that mystery belongs only to the dark. Shadows have always carried the weight of the unknown, and night gives the imagination free rein to wander. But over time, I have learned that the strange and unexplainable do not hide only in darkness. Sometimes, they live quietly beneath ordinary light.
There are moments when a familiar place feels different for no reason you can name. The kitchen at dawn, the hallway in late afternoon, the street you’ve walked a hundred times. The light shifts, and suddenly, the space feels alive in a new way. It is not frightening, but it is not entirely comfortable either. Something seems to breathe beneath the surface, unseen but present.

As a supernatural thriller author, I pay attention to those moments. They are like the first crack in a doorway, the briefest glimpse into a world that coexists with ours. I think we all sense it sometimes—the awareness that the ordinary is not as ordinary as it seems. Perhaps light does not always reveal; sometimes, it exposes what has been there all along, waiting to be noticed.

I remember once standing in my living room just before sunset. The light came through the window at an angle that turned everything golden, warm, and almost holy. Then, as quickly as it came, the color changed. The gold became pale, the warmth disappeared, and the air felt heavy. It was the same room, the same time of day, but the feeling had shifted. For a heartbeat, it was as if someone else was there, just outside my sight, watching with quiet curiosity. Then the moment passed, and everything returned to normal—or as normal as it ever truly is.

That is the thing about light. It changes not only what we see, but how we see. A shadow can be frightening, but so can brightness when it reveals too much. Light has a way of making us look again, of asking whether what we believe to be safe and known might be far more layered than we imagine.

When I write, I often think about how illumination and darkness work together. A flicker of light in a haunted room. A sunrise that reveals the aftermath of the night. Even a simple streetlamp shining on an empty road can suggest that something unseen is waiting just beyond the glow.

Maybe that is what the world is constantly trying to tell us. That every familiar space, every moment of calm, holds depth beyond our understanding. The light we take for granted is never just light—it is a thin veil stretched across something deeper, something we can sense but not always name.

So the next time sunlight spills across your table or the moonlight touches your floor, pause for a moment. Look again. Notice the way the light bends, the way it makes the air hum just slightly. You might catch a glimpse of something extraordinary hiding in plain sight.

Because the truth is, mystery doesn’t disappear when the night ends. It simply changes its form.

Posted in Christian Fiction, Inspirational, Memories, Mysterious, Non-Fiction, Paranormal, Paranormal Thrillers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When the World Grows Quiet: The Profound Stillness After the Shadow

Posted on 11/05/2025 by mapoll

Halloween has come and gone. The very air seems to have deflated, releasing the collective, vibrant energy of the season. Costumes are folded away, tucked back into closets smelling faintly of plastic and possibility. Candy bowls sit half empty on kitchen counters—monuments to a night of sugary chaos. The sudden silence that settles in the days that follow is not merely an absence of noise, but a distinct, almost palpable stillness. It is as if the world itself is finally exhaling, a long, slow breath after a night spent in frenetic excitement and the delightful performance of fear.

But if you actually listen to the silence—if you truly pay attention—you may notice that this quiet is not hollow. It has a presence. It feels deeply watchful, an atmosphere that suggests something ancient and knowing lingers just beyond the familiar edges of what our eyes can comfortably see.

The noise of Halloween—the joyous shouts, the spooky soundtracks, the cheerful doorbell rings—gives us a socially sanctioned excuse to laugh at fear, to momentarily control and domesticate what might truly frighten us. We invite the spooky in, but in a wrapped and celebratory package. Children knock on doors with bright, joyful anticipation, adults share stories and embrace shadows that feel perfectly safe because they are, after all, only part of the great, colorful performance.

Then the night ends. The last piece of glitter is swept up. The carved pumpkins slump and soften, destined for the compost bin. The high-pitched, echoing laughter fades. And what remains is a profound, far more subtle reality.

In this sudden, deep quiet, I find a kind of fertile ground. I find inspiration.

There is a unique kind of magic that only exists in the wake of celebration, after the noise finally dies down. When the world is no longer distracted by brilliant colors, elaborate decoration, and the friendly din of pretend fright, the real whispers of the unseen become shockingly easy to hear. It is in moments like these, when the air feels a little sharper and cooler, when the night sky seems to absorb every available scrap of light, that ideas begin to truly stir for me. Characters who have been merely sketches in my mind begin to speak with startling clarity. Forgotten memories tap insistently on the edges of thought. A story that has waited patiently, coiled in the dark corners of my consciousness, steps forward and says, "I am ready now. Listen to me."

Perhaps it is only because the world is finally still enough to truly listen.

You may have felt this shift too, even without consciously realizing its source. It’s the soft, atmospheric change; the way your home feels a touch too quiet, too large at night. It's a vivid, unsettling dream that leaves a residue of emotion long after you wake, even though nothing overtly frightening happened. It's that quick, reflexive glance over your shoulder, the fleeting sense that eyes are on you for a moment, despite the fact that you know you are utterly alone in the room.

This is the very essence of the space where imagination wakes. It is where intuition clears its throat and finally dares to speak. This is the sacred, liminal place where inspiration, mystery, and truth mingle and interact, freed from the obligations of daylight and the clamor of crowds.

So as the world grows quiet after the grand, theatrical celebration of Halloween, I encourage you to sit with the silence rather than instinctively rush to fill it with sound. Let the profound calm settle around you, like a thick, comfortable blanket. Pay careful attention to what rises in that stillness. You might just discover a deep-seated thought, a long-avoided memory, or a powerful feeling you have dismissed for too long. Or maybe, just maybe, you will sense a presence—a quiet, powerful truth—that only steps forward and reveals itself when all the noise of the world is finally, wonderfully gone.

For writers, for readers, for anyone who has ever felt that life is irrevocably more complex than what we see on the surface, this quiet is a gift. It is a profound, annual reminder that true fear and genuine wonder do not belong exclusively to one single day in October. They exist perpetually in the subtle, unnoticed spaces of our lives.

And the world is very quiet right now.

What will you hear?

Posted in History, Mysterious, Paranormal, Paranormal Thrillers, Supernatural Thrillers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Night That Remembers

Posted on 10/29/2025 by mapoll

Every year, as October begins to fade, something in the air shifts. It is not just the chill that slips under the door or the scent of woodsmoke that lingers at dusk. It is something quieter, something older, like the earth itself drawing in a long breath. Halloween has always carried that feeling for me. It is more than costumes, pumpkins, or playful scares. It is a night that remembers.

This night remembers the warmth of fires where old stories were told, stories that once held both comfort and warning. It remembers the souls who walked before us, those whose footsteps may still echo faintly through time. It remembers the forgotten corners of the world where silence feels alive, watching, listening, waiting.

When I was a child, I thought Halloween was only about fear—the thrill of the dark, the rush of shadows that made your heart race. But as the years passed, I began to understand it differently. Halloween is not only a celebration of the eerie but also a reminder. It reminds us that the boundary between the living and the unseen world is thinner than we imagine. It reminds us that there is beauty in mystery, and even in fear, there can be reverence.

Sometimes, on quiet October nights, I find myself standing by the window, looking out at the way the moonlight touches the trees. The world feels older then, heavier with memory. I can almost sense something beyond the veil, watching from just beyond the reach of light. It does not feel threatening, only aware, like the night itself remembers who I am.

Perhaps that is what Halloween truly is—a moment when the world pauses, when the past leans close, and when the stories we tell whisper back to us. Maybe it is not the spirits seeking us, but memory itself awakening, reminding us that nothing truly fades. Not the people we loved. Not the places that shaped us. Not the stories that refused to die.

So as you prepare for Halloween,  take a moment to listen. Step into the stillness. Let the night speak to you. It remembers more than we think.

May the night remember you gently, and may your heart be open to the whispers it brings.

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When the Light Fades

Posted on 10/22/2025 by mapoll

There is something sacred about the hour when day slips into night, a moment that feels both fragile and perfect. It is neither fully day nor truly night, but something in between, a quiet bridge that connects two worlds. The light softens, touching everything with a gentle hand, as if the world is wrapped in a soft mist. Colors deepen and glow, the sky turns into a canvas of gold, rose, and blue, and for a breathless instant, time seems to stop. It is often in this suspended stillness that I hear the faint beginning of a story, like a whisper carried on the breeze.

When the light finally fades, it feels as though the whole world lets out a sigh. The noise of the day begins to fall away, and in the calm that follows, everything familiar takes on a strange new life. A shadow on the floor shifts and stretches, no longer just a shape but something alive for a fleeting second. The branch of a tree sways outside the window, and you can’t quite tell if it’s moved by the wind or by something else entirely. You know the room, the street, the house, but somehow they feel different, touched by something unseen. In that moment, your imagination wakes up. The ordinary feels mysterious, and you sense that something beyond understanding is close, waiting to be noticed.

As a writer of supernatural thrillers, I have learned not only to see this moment but to listen to it carefully. Twilight is the place where fear and wonder meet. Standing in that soft, fading light feels like leaning against a thin wall between worlds, sensing the presence of something just beyond it. Sometimes what waits there feels kind and familiar, like the memory of a time or place the world has forgotten. Other times, it feels colder, heavier, as though the shadows have grown too deep, carrying a secret they should not hold. It’s in those moments that a quiet instinct rises, urging you to turn on a light, even if you don’t know why.

This hour of twilight is not only something we see in the sky. It also lives inside us. Each of us carries a mix of light and shadow within. There are the parts we show the world—our goals, our routines, our laughter—and then there are the quieter parts we rarely face, our doubts, our griefs, and the longings we can’t quite name. When the world outside begins to darken, those hidden parts come forward, gently asking to be seen. Perhaps that is why the twilight feels so alive. It reminds us that what is seen and what is unseen are not separate things, but two sides of the same truth.

So when the sun slips below the horizon and the first touch of night begins to spread, take a moment to pause. Step outside or sit by a window. Feel the shift in the air, the cooling of the world, the change in color and sound. Let the silence settle around you. Listen to the space between the last light and the first shadow. In that quiet space, the boundaries between the known and the unknown fade away, and that is where the most beautiful and haunting stories are born.

Posted in Christian Fiction, Haunted, Inspirational, Memories, Paranormal, Paranormal Thrillers, Supernatural Thrillers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment