Ghost stories from Latvia

The Gilded Gate

I am Clara, and in two days I will be sixteen. Most girls my age are planning parties, picking dresses, and whispering about boys. I spend my evenings tracing the...

The Bog Throat

The town of Harrow-on-the-Mire wasn’t on any tourist map, and the locals liked it that way. A single road wound through it, past boarded-up shops and houses whose paint blistered...

The Stillwater Mirror

The first time I noticed something was wrong was on a Tuesday. I’d come home from the university library, my backpack heavy with books I’d barely cracked, and found Aunt...

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