Ghost stories from Philippines

The Last Plate

In the summer of 2010, I agreed to house-sit for my Aunt Lita while she and her husband vacationed in Thailand. Their home, a sleek modern structure on the outskirts...

The Hollow in the Hill

The road to our house in the highlands of Bukidnon, Philippines, is a winding ribbon of packed earth that climbs through coconut groves and past a few scattered wooden houses....

The Lobby of the Unseen

My Aunt Clara never spoke of the night at the Grand Meridian Hotel. It was a place that had seen better decades, its marble floors cracked and its chandeliers dimmed...

The Persistent Static

It was a humid Tuesday evening in early October when my brother-in-law’s vintage radio, a bulky mahogany Philco that had been in his family for decades, began to emit a...

The Hollow Night Watch

The city never sleeps, or so they say. But at 2:47 AM, even the flickering neon of late-night convenience stores seemed to hold its breath. I was a skeptic, a...

The Nightshift Reel

During my tenure as a media liaison at the Government Communications Complex in the capital, I was one of several officers detailed to the old executive mansion adjacent to the...

The Swaying Oak

The summer I turned seventeen, my grandfather passed away. I remember it was a Tuesday, and the air in our farmhouse felt heavy with the scent of old wood and...

The Hollow Floor

In the autumn of 2001, a fresh government had just taken the reins in the capital city of Veyra, and the press office of the Presidential Palace was a hive...

The Painter’s Lament

It was late autumn when we decided to finally repaint the upstairs hallway. The old color, a faded mustard, had begun to peel near the ceiling, and the musty smell...

The Cinder Garden

The old cannery on Meridian Street had been dead for a decade before my father bought it. The neighborhood kids swore the basement was full of forgotten lockers, but the...

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