Ghost stories from Slovenia

The Ceiling Ticks

Dr. Alistair Rook had spent a decade in the dry, fluorescent halls of the Somnology Institute, cataloging the strange and the sleepless. His specialty was the borderland between wakefulness and...

The Bell of Dust

The summer I turned twelve, my family took a camper van tour of the Italian countryside, a final hurrah before our emigration to Canada. My father, an amateur historian, had...

The Last Jar of Pickles

The night air had that thick, pre-storm heaviness that makes every sound feel like a warning. Marcus and I had split a six-pack in my garage, which I converted into...

The Breathing Corner

After six years away at university, I moved back into my childhood home last September. The house sat on a quiet cul-de-sac in a town that time seemed to forget,...

The Lexicon of Dust

In the autumn of 2019, I was a graduate student at Meridian University, buried in a mountain of archaic texts for my thesis on medieval ecclesiastical cartography. The library, a...

The Unseen Turn

Marcus had always been a city person. When his wife, Elena, inherited a dilapidated farmhouse from her distant aunt in the remote village of Ashford, he was skeptical. But Elena...

The Third Set of Paws

It’s been nine years since I last saw Jasper. My father, in one of his drunken hazes, left the back door open and the little black cat slipped out into...

The Cold Nail

I never put much stock in the supernatural. I was a man of science, of reason, a firm believer that every mystery had a logical explanation. But that night in...

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