The Breath at Seven-Forty
I am Marisol Vega, nineteen, and this account is the truth as I know it. It began on a Tuesday, the twelfth of October, during my second semester at the...
I am Marisol Vega, nineteen, and this account is the truth as I know it. It began on a Tuesday, the twelfth of October, during my second semester at the...
Mira was eleven when her mother’s car went off the cliff road, the sea swallowing the wreckage whole. After that, her father, Elias, became a ghost in their cliffside house,...
In the autumn of 2016, our engineering college in Chennai was buzzing with the upcoming inter-college football tournament. My friend, Arjun, a talented midfielder, was selected to represent our college...
The clock on the wall of the lodge room had stopped at 2:47 AM. I noticed it when I first entered, the second hand twitching uselessly against the cracked plastic...
In the sweltering summer of 1957, in the dusty outskirts of a city that was still stretching its limbs into the modern era, there lived a young man named Arjun....
For thirty years, Elias Thorn had sold firewood to the cremation grounds of Harlow’s End, a town that clung to the edge of the Blackwood Forest like a barnacle to...
In the summer of 2007, just after our tenth-grade board exams, a group of us—Arjun, Dev, Manav, and I—huddled on the rooftop of Arjun’s house, the heat of the day...
In the summer of 2003, I was fourteen, and my world was the dusty roads that snaked out of our small town of Solace Creek, past the last gas station,...
The alarm on my phone blared at 6:00 AM, a sound I had never heard on a Sunday. My eyes snapped open, and I stared at the glowing digits, my...
Three years ago, my sister Priya moved with her family to the old industrial town of Jamshedpur, in India, after accepting a senior position at a steel manufacturing firm. Her...
My name is Arjun, and I live with my wife, Meera, in a small town in Kerala called Alappuzha, known for its backwaters and dense coconut groves. We moved here...
I never believed in the kind of horrors that stalked the edges of mortgages and inheritances. My grandmother, Elena Voss, had been a meticulous woman, a retired bank auditor who...
I never believed in ghosts. Not really. The stories my grandmother told, the warnings from the village elders—they were just tales to scare children into obedience. But what I witnessed...
The tale was told to me by my grandmother, but it began long before she drew her first breath. It was her father, whom everyone called Balu, who witnessed the...
The Choudhary family had occupied the fifteenth floor of the Nimbus Residency for nearly a decade, but it was the fourteenth floor that held their home. The building itself was...
In the sweltering pre-dawn of Chennai, where the humidity clung to your skin like a second layer, I, Zainab, a 19-year-old architecture student, had taken to walking to the Fathima...
The rain came down in relentless sheets, drumming a frantic rhythm on the rusted tin roof of the bus shelter. I huddled in the corner, my camera bag pressed against...
It was the night before our final exams, and my friend Priya had come over to my place to study. We lived in a quiet suburb on the outskirts of...
In the autumn of 2019, Mara and I decided to celebrate our anniversary early. My job had me traveling to Morocco the following week, and we wanted to steal a...
My friend Dana had been a radio operator at the old Freehold Transmitter Station for years, a relic from the pre-digital era that still broadcasted a local AM show to...
In the autumn of 2016, I returned from a wearying assignment in Kolkata to my ancestral flat in Mumbai, hoping to recover my equilibrium. My grandmother, Ammaji, was failing, her...
The purchase was finalized in late August, a sweltering afternoon when the city itself seemed to hold its breath. My parents, thrilled with the deal, signed the papers without a...
I’ve always been a man of logic. Ghosts, spirits, the supernatural—these were concepts I dismissed as the fancies of overactive imaginations or the byproducts of fear. My name is Arjun,...
The apartment was never meant to be a home. It was a holding cell for bodies that had forgotten how to breathe. I knew it the moment I stepped through...
Listening to the woods...
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