Some books don’t simply appear on your screen — they call to you. That’s exactly how The Acorn Stories found me.

As I scrolled through my Kindle Unlimited home screen, the familiar glow washed over countless titles. But one tile stopped me cold: a towering tree, bold and inviting, paired with a title that carried the promise of depth — The Acorn Stories. Curiosity bloomed. A single glance at the blurb was all it took. Other books faded into the periphery. My finger tapped “Add,” and suddenly, I found myself stepping into Duane Simolke’s world.

What struck me first was the narrative style — a dance between first-person present and third-person observation. At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of the shifts. But then the rhythm revealed itself. The effect? A literary camera that drifts effortlessly between intimacy and distance, making the town of Acorn feel both lived-in and cinematic.

Each chapter offers a glimpse into the lives of Acorn’s residents — their philosophies, their hurts, their joys, their quiet triumphs. Simolke paints people the way some artists paint landscapes: with affection for imperfections, attention to nuance, and a lingering sense of beauty in the mundane.

There is a hush in these pages. A slowing-down. A reminder that life — even in its smallest pockets — pulses with meaning. For me, reading The Acorn Stories became an invitation to soften my pace, to lean into quieter moments, and to listen to the subtle music between the words.

Duane Simolke’s craft is tender, observational, and unexpectedly profound. The citizens of Acorn don’t just populate a book; they populate your mind. You feel as though you’ve walked their streets, breathed their air, overheard their whispered confessions.

This is a story collection for those who appreciate character over chaos, reflection over noise, and detail over spectacle. A gentle gem worth lingering over.

Highly recommended. 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟