Ghost stories from Touches

The Bone Orchard

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 Clockwork Map

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...

That Black Thing

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...

The Gilded Canary

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 Corvid’s Gift

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...

The Sunroom’s Shadow

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 Last Pencil

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...

The Empty Kitchen

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 Unassigned Patient

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...

The Lingering Stop

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...

The Polka-Dot Reflection

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,...

The Mothman’s Tailor

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...

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