The Harvest of Ash and Rust
The house on Muirfield Lane had always felt like a skin stretched over old bones. My parents bought it when I was four, and the garden was a tangle of...
The house on Muirfield Lane had always felt like a skin stretched over old bones. My parents bought it when I was four, and the garden was a tangle of...
I had a friend, Dale, who worked at a crematorium and moonlighted as a stand-up comic. ‘Laughing in the face of death,’ he’d say, ‘keeps the other gig from eating...
The winter my family moved to my grandmother’s house, the cold crept into the bones of the place like a living thing. The house sat at the edge of a...
I was nine when I learned that some truths are too heavy for the living. My family had just moved to the old Beaumont house, a crooked Victorian at the...
The pine trees along Route 9 had begun to blur into a single dark wall when Marcus first saw the figure. It was just past the mile marker with the...
It has been six weeks since I published my last notes on the presence. The dreams have stopped, and the whispers have faded into silence. I no longer wake with...
It was late July, and the heat had settled over the desert like a blanket that wouldn’t lift. Our family was driving to my aunt’s place, a small house on...
I was nine that winter, not ten, but the years have blurred the exact number. We lived in a house that had once been a funeral parlor, and my bedroom...
This is my very first experience with the paranormal. Sorry if this is kind of short, but it was a rather quick happening. I was four years old when this...
My name is Elara, and I’ve always been fascinated by the stories that cling to our town like moss to stones. Not the sanitized versions told to tourists, but the...
On a grey November evening in 2014, I was cycling with a group of old university friends through the dense, dripping woods of the Ardennes in southern Belgium. We had...
When I was nine, we moved into a rambling Victorian house that had been converted into two flats. Our flat was on the top floor, and the only way to...
The first Tuesday of June 2000 found me driving through the outskirts of Inverness, my thoughts as grey as the overcast sky. Two weeks had passed since I’d lowered my...
My brother Fintan and I grew up in a cramped flat above a defunct fishmonger’s in the port town of Ballymore. The building smelled of brine and rust, and the...
I was twenty-two, four months pregnant with our first child, and living in a converted Victorian on the edge of Meridian Creek, a town so small the postmistress knew everyone’s...
The first time I noticed the pencil was during Mr. Harlow’s third-period algebra class. It lay on the floor by the radiator, a plain yellow Number 2 with the eraser...
In the autumn of my fourteenth year, I lived with my family in a creaky old farmhouse on the edge of a dying town. My parents, pragmatic souls, had bought...
The summer I turned seven, the world was a place of golden light and long shadows, and I, Mara, believed in nothing I couldn’t see. My parents, ever practical, had...
The night after the funeral, Mira found Karl’s old kite in the garage, its red tail snagged on a nail. She’d been avoiding the house since the service, but her...
I never put much stock in the unseen. My father’s death was a fact, a piece of family history as mundane as the creak in the hallway floorboards. He died...
In 2008, I started my first nursing job at Silverpine Medical Center, a private hospital with a reputation for excellence. The orthopedic unit was on the third floor, and I...
Milo had always been a man of signs. When the fortune cookie at the Golden Dragon unfurled its cryptic message — ‘A long road lies ahead, yet you will arrive...
In the autumn of 2018, I was a lab monitor at Ridgemont Technical College, a sprawling campus of brutalist concrete and narrow corridors. My assigned post was the CAD Lab,...
I’ve always prided myself on being a rational man. Ghosts, demons, cryptids—all of it was fodder for campfire tales and late-night talk radio. But life has a way of sewing...
Listening to the woods...
🕯 Log in to view your wish history and Willow's responses.
LOG IN TO THE WOODS