House Number 6

On a side street stood a three-story house, its windows always half-open. No one lived there, yet someone always seemed to be walking inside. Amelie, a newcomer to the city, could see directly onto the roof from her kitchen window. For the first few nights, she heard footsteps up there—steady, impatient.
One evening, she decided to go inside. The door wasn't locked. It was cool inside, but not unpleasant. Every room was empty except for a single piece of furniture: a tall, narrow mirror in the hallway. In it, she saw herself—and behind her, a man in a black coat. She turned around. No one.
Later, she learned from a neighbor that the house had belonged to a watchmaker who disappeared one night. "They say he's still looking for the clock that never worked," the woman said. Amelie set up a clock in her own living room—one that had deliberately stopped. Since then, she hadn't heard any footsteps at night.