Ghost stories from Hong Kong

The Lantern of Needles

The summer I turned twenty-three, I returned to my grandmother’s village in the highlands of Chiapas, Mexico, to help care for her while my parents were away. It was 1987,...

The Invisible Tremor

Growing up in the Dane household meant accepting that the air itself might shimmer with things unseen. Mother swore she saw our great-grandfather in the hallway the night he died,...

The Glass-Faced Tenant

I never believed in ghosts—not until the sink started dripping in the exact rhythm of a heartbeat, one thump for every second I spent in that bathroom. The day I...

The Constant Patron

In the bustling heart of the city, before its grand renovation, stood the Riverbend Mall—a labyrinth of polished floors and mirrored pillars. As a child, I accompanied my mother on...

The Fourth Setting

I have three siblings, and this happened about two years ago, when we had just moved into a newly built apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. The building...

The Cleft in the Red Wall

I began writing this after sleepless nights and a long drive to my grandmother’s farmhouse in the hills of Himachal. My mother’s cousin had died, and the family gathered for...

The Charred Frame

In the quiet town of Millbrook, where the autumn leaves fell like burnt offerings, lived a young woman named Elara. She was the only grandchild of her grandfather, a stern...

The Pattern in the Soot

The fishing village of Greyhaven was wrapped in the thin, cold light of a false dawn. In the attic room of the Harbormaster’s house, where the wind sang through the...

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