Ghost stories from South Africa

The Lantern Keeper

The old lighthouse had been abandoned for decades, its lamp room gutted by a storm that had claimed the keeper’s life. I’d come to the island to catalog its decay...

The Cinder Room

I’d been house-sitting for my aunt and uncle for a week when I decided to use my cousin’s old bedroom. It was the only one with a decent spare bed...

The Twelve-Hour Vigil

The first time I saw them, I was eight, sitting on the cracked linoleum floor of our kitchen in the dead of winter. The light from the gas stove flickered...

The Toe That Knew

My brother Leo had a thing about my second toe. It was longer than my big toe, and he loved to point it out, claiming it gave me an unfair...

The Iron Saint

The house on Bramblewick Lane was a squat, brick bungalow with a sunken living room and a furnace that groaned like a dying animal. We’d moved there in the summer...

The Cerulean Prayer

My father drove me through the winding mountain roads that summer, the car’s engine humming a low, mournful tune. I was eight, not nine, but the years have a way...

The Hollow Tune

When I was thirteen, my aunt lost her youngest son to leukemia. His father, a man I barely knew, lived in a coastal town six hours away and came to...

The Porcelain Key

The day we carried the last cardboard box into the house on Larkspur Lane, the sky held the color of a faded bruise. It wasn’t the house itself that unsettled...

The Room That Moved

In the autumn of 2003, I was dating a man whose family had bought a derelict farmhouse outside a small town in the Ozarks. They were amateur renovators, and the...

The Vanishing Bar

In the autumn of 1967, the Okafor family moved into a sprawling Victorian house in the hills of Enugu, Nigeria, where the red earth met the sky in a blaze...

The Humming Fuse Box

Marta and I hadn’t seen her brother, Daniel, in months. When he and his wife, Lena, finally found a place after a string of rentals, we were eager to help...

The Humming Dryer

Maya and Daniel had been married for eight months when they signed the lease on the little ground-floor flat in the sprawling Beacon Hill complex. It was cheap, which was...

The Ledger of the Unseen

At twenty-two, I was a night auditor for a biomedical supply firm in the old port district of Kalmar, Sweden. Our offices occupied the top floor of a converted warehouse,...

The Weeping Engine

The house on Maple Street was a new construction, and we moved in when I was five, just after my seventh birthday party. Mom and Dad were proud of it—the...

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