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The Routine Continued Like Nobody Had Died | After Midnight

After losing both his wife and his lifelong best friend within a few years of each other, his father spent nearly every evening alone in the garage they had shared for decades. It started as grief, or at least that was the easiest explanation. The familiar routines remained comforting—the radio humming softly, coffee on the workbench, old projects left unfinished exactly where they had been.Then the strange things began.A second coffee cup appearing beside his father’s. Tools moving overnight. The motion light glowing outside long after everyone had gone to bed. And every so often, drifting…

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