The Story With No Letter E

A Shadow in the Rain

Rain slid across rooftops, a rhythm of sorrow falling on a cold town. No sun, no songbirds, only a gray sky and a world dim with loss.

A man, young but with sorrow in his gait, strolled through this town. His coat hung limp, sod from a storm that hadn’t quit for hours. His boots sank into puddles. No soul was out—no lamps lit. Just him.

This man, Adrian, was on a mission. With his pockets full of maps, clippings, and old photographs, all that brought him to this town was a girl—Lilian.

A month ago, Lilian was a bright spark in his life. Laughing, writing, talking of far-off lands and old myths. Adrian had found joy with her. But in a flash, all that was past.

A day in mid-July, Lilian took a train, saying, “I must know what’s out there.” But that train was lost. Rainfall, floods, a faulty signal. No folks found it. No tracks, no calls. Just missing.

But Adrian didn’t buy it.

Through archives, train logs, and old books, Adrian found a town—this town. Off maps, off grids. An urban phantom.

Locals call it “Lost Hollow.”

As Adrian got to its main road, fog drifted in, coiling around him. Faint lights—possibly lamps?—flickered far off.

A narrow path ran by a brook. Up it, a shadow ran. A girl.

“Lilian?” Adrian’s call rang out.

No word. Just that shadow, turning a corner.

Adrian ran. Splashing through mud, lungs tight.

A cabin stood amid old oak limbs. A light was on. That shadow was now still, back to him, at its door.

“Lilian,” Adrian said softly.

She stood still.

“Is it you?” His words caught.

A nod.

His world spun.

“I found you. I—I thought you—”

A hand up. A hush.

“You must go,” Lilian said.

Adrian took a small step.

“No. This world is wrong,” Lilian said.

“What do you—”

“This town traps. It calls to longing, to loss. It pulls you in.”

“I don’t care,” Adrian said. “You got lost. I had to find you.”

“You found a ghost.” Lilian’s form flickered.

“What?”

“I did board that train. But I didn’t walk out.”

Adrian’s limbs lost warmth. His stomach sunk.

“This is not living,” Lilian said. “This is not for you.”

“But I can’t go,” Adrian said. “Not without you.”

Lilian’s form glowed now, soft and calm. “You must. You still walk. I don’t.”

Adrian’s hand found a wall, supporting him.

“I miss you,” was all Adrian could say.

“I know.”

Rain had quit now. That old gray sky had a hint of dawn.

“I’ll walk you out,” Lilian said.

And so, two shadows—man and apparition—walked back down that path. Wind had stilled. Brooks ran calmly. Owls sang.

At a split in trails, Lilian stood still.

“I stop here.”

Adrian bit his lip. His hand found hers.

Cold. Faint. But a touch all the same.

“I’m glad you found your path to now,” Lilian said.

Adrian’s throat was tight.

With a kiss on his brow, Lilian stood tall. “Go back. You hold too much story to quit now.”

And as Adrian did walk away, not looking back, fog swirled, trails dark, town fading.

Lilian was a shadow again.

But his world now had a bit of light.

And for Adrian, that was enough.