Ghost house
The table was set for only three now. It used to be four. The chair sat in the corner, empty, waiting, almost, to be used. But no one would sit on it. No one would move it. It was sacred now, as was everything he had once touched, loved, and used. And it would sit there, as if waiting for him to come through the door, smiling as he used to and saying, "Hey, everyone, sorry I'm late for dinner..."