Story 1170: The Street That Vanished

They called it Wraithmoor Lane—a crooked little street nestled between Tallow Alley and Briarhook Row. It wasn’t on any map, and those who spoke of it did so with hesitant glances, as if saying its name too loud might summon something listening.

One autumn morning, it simply disappeared.

Not faded or forgotten—gone.

Miss Evelyn Blackmoor stood where it should have been. The houses on either side, though warped and weary, were still intact. But where Wraithmoor had existed yesterday, there was now a blank stretch of cobblestone, utterly smooth, as if no homes had ever stood there. Even the lamps were missing.

“Third time this year,” muttered Officer Harren, glancing at the empty space with bloodshot eyes. “Streets vanish, folks vanish with ’em. And no one remembers unless they’ve seen it go.”