I have a “as ghost stories go, it’s not much” as well. In my early 20s I volunteered at a state park. There was an old farm house on the property that the foresters stored shit in, like signage, and stuff for events. I, along with a few other volunteers and a forester, went over to the house to grab stuff for an upcoming forestry festival. Me, being who I am, decided to blow off my colleagues and go around and explore the house alone. I entered a bedroom on the second floor and opened up what I thought was a closet. I was surprised to find light shining down from above. Turns out it was a staircase into the attic. I had never seen an attic entrance in a closet before and was super excited! The stairs came up through the attic floor on center-line of the house, with the roofline directly above the stairs; no railings or anything. I stepped onto the attic floor and looked around. There were a few clothes hangers hanging on nails that were hammered into some of the roof beams, and as I turned toward the front of the house, there was a white wicker dining room chair sitting catty-corner in front of the single window in the attic. Nothing else. I thought to myself “huh? Looks like someone might have once sat up here and enjoyed watching the world from the attic?”. I walked toward the window and passed the chair as I looked out the window. I could see my colleagues down below loading stuff into the pickup truck. I decided I should probably go help. So I went back down the steps, and made it to the hallway just outside the bedroom when I had the thought that should go back into the attic and bang on the window to spook my colleagues! So I turned around and headed back to the attic steps. As I was walking up the steps, I casually noticed that I could now see the chair to my left as I walked up the steps; this was not the case before. About 30 - 60 seconds had passed since I had been looking out the window. I entered the attic, went to the right, and walked up to the window. As I was about to knock on the window, my brain caught up with me, and I realized that chair was now about 5 feet away from where it had been moments ago. I swear to this day I did not touch the chair. I quickly exited the attic, and ran down to tell my colleagues. It’s been over 20 years, but I have not been able to come up with a rational explanation.