We’ve All Lived in That House

Why Magical Realism Makes Familiar Settings Feel Haunted in the Right Way

I'm glad you're here.

Some houses remember. You know the kind. A place where the air feels heavier in certain rooms, where the light falls strangely in the hallway, where the floor creaks differently when you're thinking about someone you miss. HOUSE OF SMALL WOES doesn’t need grand architecture or ancient secrets. It uses what you already know—a kitchen you’ve stood in too long, a window you once watched for someone who never came back. Magical realism starts with the familiar, then lets it mean more.

This isn’t horror. It’s recognition. The setting doesn’t scream. It breathes. It holds what people have left behind. In magical realism, the haunted feeling doesn’t come from ghosts. It comes from emotion that never finished becoming memory. You’re not running from it. You’re living with it. Maybe even learning from it.

HOUSE OF SMALL WOES turns an ordinary house into something sacred, sorrowful, and strange. That’s what makes it real. It doesn’t try to impress you with scale. It wants you to notice what’s already there. The chipped tile. The locked drawer. The radio that only plays one song, but only when no one is listening. If you’ve ever walked into a room and felt like it remembered something you forgot, this game understands you.

If you’ve ever walked through a house and felt like it was holding its breath, you’ll understand this book.
Find it here.

I hope you're doing well today,
Berin