Ghost stories from Brazil

Do Anything To Get A Hug

“Caramba! Cobra com corpo de fogo!” (Wow! Snake with a body of fire) My grandmother shouted from far away. I was on my way back from my grandfather’s place, I...

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Henrique, We Miss You

“Notícias tristes” (sad news) My sister in Brazil texted me. I was wondering what happened; did she break up again with her boy friend? Did anything happened to our father?...

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The Third Eyelid

I flew from New York to Manaus two weeks after my guide, Senhor Almeida, died. He was the one who, thirty years ago, took me up the Rio Negro to...

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The Rice Cracker Incident

I had returned to my hometown of Belo Horizonte after a decade away, hoping to find solace in the familiar hills and the comforting chaos of my family’s old apartment....

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The Cartographer’s Last Crossing

The rain had been falling for three days straight, turning the streets of Millbrook into slick, black mirrors. I was returning from the Meridian Mall, the only place open past...

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The Lantern in the Loam

Mara was a creature of habit, and her habit on that particular Tuesday was to spend the afternoon sprawled across her grandmother’s antique chaise lounge, inhaling the dusty scent of...

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The Last Work Order

The hum of the tires on the wet asphalt was the only sound inside the car, a steady rhythm that matched the patter of the rain against the windshield. I...

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The Window with No Glass

The rain fell like a curtain of needles, stitching the afternoon sky to the gray rooftops of the Marrow District. Inside the two-story flat, Elara sprawled across the threadbare loveseat,...

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The Empty Bench at the Fountain

The night air was thick and humid, a stark contrast to the cool breeze that had been promised by the weather report. I had just finished an evening session at...

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The Flicker at the Last Reel

The night air carried the scent of rain and old concrete as I followed my friend Mira into the narrow alley that led to the Regal Lantern. The marquee buzzed...

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The Humming Fridge

I’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal. I’m a man of logic, of cause and effect. If something goes bump in the night, I’d rather blame a faulty...

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The Blue-Light Rink

I was killing time at the Galleria Atlântica in São Paulo, a sprawling mall my mother swore was better than Rio’s. My friend Luísa had dragged me there to buy...

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The Unfinished Antiphon

The autumn fair by St. Dymphna’s had been a blur of caramel apples and hayrides, but by the time the last booth shuttered and the fairy lights dimmed, the chill...

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The Weight of the Watchful Beast

After a week of relentless deadlines, my eyes burned like cinders and my thoughts were tangled in a fog of exhaustion. I met my old friend Marisol at a dimly...

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The Last Ledger

The invitation came from my friend’s great-uncle, a man I knew only as Elias Thorne. My friend, Marra, had warned me to leave behind any modern convenience—no phone, no recorder,...

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The Marrow of the Machine

In the rust-bitten town of New Carthage, where the river ran the color of old pennies and the factories coughed soot into a sky that had forgotten blue, there lived...

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The Carousel of Rust

The evening had settled over the sprawling complex like a damp shroud, the sky bleeding from bruised purple to a sickly green as I pulled into the underground parking garage...

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The Last Wisp

My grandmother, Nana Lia, was a woman of the old country, her skin the color of sun-baked earth and her eyes like chips of obsidian. She lived in a small,...

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The Bone Whistle

Marta had been waiting for the city bus for twenty minutes, her cat, Boris, yowling in the carrier at her feet. The vet appointment was at nine, and the bus,...

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The Grocery List on Her Fridge

My cousin, Elena, had just moved into a new apartment in the city, and she was thrilled about it. She’d always wanted a place of her own, and this one...

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The Petal-Faced Man

Maya never noticed the exact moment the streetlights changed from a warm sodium glow to a cold, antiseptic white. She’d been on the phone with her cousin, arguing about whether...

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The Uninvited Guest at Table Seven

Marta had always prided herself on the quiet elegance of her tea room, The Gilded Leaf. Nestled in the heart of a small, fog-draped coastal town, it was a place...

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The Cold Stare of the Celosia

It was just past nine on a Tuesday night when Elena and her younger brother, Marco, finally exited the sprawling Mesa Ridge Mall. They’d lingered too long in the video...

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The Cloth of Thorns

My name is Ines, and I live in the coastal town of Mar Azul, a place that thrives on salt and superstition. I am twenty-four, a graduate student in folklore,...

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