Your ending isn’t written yet.

On a rainy Tuesday, a soaked young woman walks into the café where you work, orders nothing, and asks what year it is. She says she is from three hundred years ahead, and that she has eleven days before the rain stops.

@gummyworks

You take a night shift at a 24-hour laundromat, where the outgoing clerk leaves you one strange rule: until the rain stops, the customer at the last machine will answer anything you ask. You never expected the rain to last this long — or the questions to start cutting this close.

@northisle

You are a lamplighter of Chang'an on the night of the Lantern Festival. One lamp you were never meant to light goes out — and by morning, the city has forgotten you exist. Three strangers still half-remember your face. You have until dawn to be remembered.

@luojiuge

One last summer in a seaside town about to lose its train line. On the night you miss the last train, the station's old wind chime rings three times — and the train comes back. A young woman steps off who says she has been waiting for you.

@whiteisle

You take a night-shift job at a library where every borrowed book lights a star above the city. The head librarian is missing, the sky is dimming, and someone has been living in the astronomy aisle. Three chapters, three endings, one very overdue sky.

@starnotes

The Crown of Remembrance has shattered, and everyone in the kingdom has forgotten who they are — except one young woman who remembers your name. Together you must gather the Crown's shards before the realm forgets itself entirely.

@greycrow

Every night you close your flower shop and find a folded note in the last unsold bucket. The handwriting belongs to the driver of the 11:40 bus — the one who always waits a minute longer than he should. You have never spoken. The route is being cancelled at the end of the month.

@hinveladmin

You host a quiet midnight radio show in a city that barely listens. Then a caller requests a song that hasn't been released yet — and hums it note for note. Every week she knows a little more of what's coming.

@hinveladmin

You've just taken a post as apprentice keeper at a lonely lighthouse on a storm-bitten coast. In the keeper's desk you find letters addressed to you — postmarked next year.

@hinveladmin

At 1 a.m. a small harbor bookshop opens its door for people who cannot sleep. Every book inside is someone's unfinished story, and it is your job to give it back. Then one night a book returns with a page written in your own hand.

@lingerlight