Ghost stories from Australia

The Hollow Hours

My name is Erin, and I’m eighteen, drowning in the final stretch of my HSC. The pressure was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest until I forgot what...

The Arithmetic of Dust

The farmhouse in the Hungarian lowlands had always felt like a held breath. My grandparents, Erzsi and Ferenc, had lived there for sixty years, and their days were as predictable...

The Latched Lid

In the quiet town of Mulberry Creek, nestled between rolling hills and a dense pine forest, I lived with my mother and my older brother, Jake. We’d moved there six...

The Cinder Path

My cousin Lena and I had heard stories about the old McKinnon Asylum, abandoned since the 1960s after a fire that killed dozens of patients. It was a sprawling brick...

The Cartographer’s Daughter

Elena and I had been friends for seventeen years, bonding over our shared struggles to conceive and our daughters’ uncanny resemblance in the school yearbook photos. We lived in Crestfall,...

The Violet Hour

My grandmother, Elara, passed away nine years ago this autumn. Of her six grandchildren, I was the only one who shared her love for the quiet corners of the world,...

The Hallway Watcher

My brother Finn and I shared a wall in our old house in the Adelaide Hills, a place where the eucalyptus trees pressed close and the wind sounded like something...

The Cobalt Door

The house on Merriweather Lane had a way of collecting things: dust, dead leaves, and, apparently, the restless dead. I’d been over at my friend’s place—call him Dave—a dozen times,...

The Clock on the Mantel

In the autumn of 2015, my uncle, Richard, passed away from a sudden heart attack. The funeral was a blur of black clothes and murmured condolences. I stayed at the...

The Clockwork Garden

The moment I stepped through Ivy’s front door, the familiar scent of lavender and old wood wrapped around me like a cold shroud. Ivy’s house had always felt vast, a...

The Crouching Visitor

I’ve always been a light sleeper, but that night, I was wide awake, the remnants of a late-night documentary still flickering behind my eyes. The clock on my nightstand glowed...

The Salt Road

In the bone-dry heart of the Western Australian outback, where the red dust swallows sound and the sun bleeds the sky white, there is a ghost town that doesn’t appear...

The Hollow Scoop

The old ice cream parlor had been closed for decades, its windows papered over with yellowed ads for flavors that had gone out of fashion. It sat at the end...

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