Ghost stories from Misc

The Cold Ladder

It began three weeks after we moved into the creaking farmhouse on Hemlock Lane. The place had a sour smell, like old cooking grease and decay, and every room seemed...

Read Story →

The Hollow Cord

My grandmother’s farmhouse in the Arkansas delta had a way of holding on to things. Dust, heat, the scent of molasses and kerosene, and the memory of my cousin, Evie,...

Read Story →

The Half-Moon Sink

In the autumn of 2003, I moved into a small flat on the third floor of a crumbling Victorian building in the heart of a city that never slept. The...

Read Story →

The White Pennant

It was the last month of our final year, and the air in our coastal town of Duskharbor was thick with salt and pre-graduation tension. I was in the same...

Read Story →

Gust Of Wind Inside

This event happened in about 1995 in the town of Great Yarmouth on the east coast of Norfolk in the UK. It was Christmas and some friends had gone to...

Read Story →

The Hollow Twin

The first time I noticed something was wrong was when my brother, Leo, lost his plastic knights. He was seven, and those knights were his pride, especially the one with...

Read Story →

The Handprint on the Second-Floor Wall

I suppose I should start by saying that if this turns out to be nothing, I apologize for the fuss, but I need to write it down because I can’t...

Read Story →

The Girl in the Frame

My grandmother’s cottage sat at the edge of the moors, where the heather grew thick and the wind carried a constant, low hum. I was there for the summer, a...

Read Story →

The Man Who Knew My Face

The night air in the desert town of Jericho Flats had a way of carrying whispers from the dry arroyos, but it carried a deeper silence that night. Miles and...

Read Story →

The Man Who Smelled Like Rain

I’m Elara, and I’m seventeen now, but this happened when I was fifteen, about nine months ago. I still can’t be sure if it was a dream or real, but...

Read Story →

Voices In My House

It was May of ’09. My grandmother has diabetes and her blood sugar went so high, she went into shock. The night she went into the hospital, my mother, my...

Read Story →

The Receiver and the Static

The house on Farrow Lane had always been drafty in the way old houses are, with creaks that sound like footsteps and sighs that sound like whispers. But the draft...

Read Story →

The Lantern at Moonrise

In the autumn of 2009, I agreed to accompany my friend, Marcus, on a three-day hike through the Blackwood Peaks. I had never been backpacking before, but Marcus was an...

Read Story →

The Mirror That Hung Wrong

The house on Hemlock Lane had a peculiar geometry, as if its architect had been drunk on angles and indecision. I was housesitting for my cousin Margo and her husband,...

Read Story →

The Weight of the Walls

I moved into the old farmhouse on the edge of the Thornewood back in early spring, drawn by the low rent and the promise of solitude. The place had a...

Read Story →

The Chalk Line

It was the summer of 2009, and I was fifteen. My cousin, Dale, and his family had invited me to join them on a camping trip in the Ozarks, near...

Read Story →

The Red Clay Floor

In the heart of the dry season, when the harmattan winds painted the sky a dusty orange, our family would trade the cramped city apartment for the village. My grandmother’s...

Read Story →

The Cartographer’s Keepsake

The morning we arrived at Gull Rock Resort, the sun was a pale gold coin pressed against a sky of washed-out blue. The lake, a sheet of smoky glass, reflected...

Read Story →

The Empty Chair

Aunt Rosa’s farmhouse had always felt like a sanctuary, a place of warm pies and the smell of fresh hay. But that summer, the heat was oppressive, and the house...

Read Story →

The Stray Signal

Mara had always been a light sleeper, but the incident at her cousin’s cabin had changed that. She was sixteen, visiting the remote A-frame nestled in the pine woods of...

Read Story →

The Long Way Down

The first time it happened, I was sitting cross-legged on the thin carpet of my apartment, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. I’d been trying...

Read Story →

The Salt of the Earth

My name is Elias, and I’ve never been able to pin down the exact moment my life veered into the impossible. If I trace it back, it starts with my...

Read Story →

The Painted Veil

In the salt-scoured town of Greyhaven, where the sea fog crawled through the streets like a living thing, I grew up with a secret companion. Her name was Lena, and...

Read Story →