Ghost stories from South Africa

The Cage on the Counter

I should write this down before the details blur. My memory has been playing tricks on me lately—names slipping, faces fading—but this, this is burned into my mind, perhaps because...

The Quiet After

I never believed in ghosts, not really. My grandmother talked about them like they were old neighbors, but I figured they were just her way of keeping the dark at...

The Cinder Veil

My mother, Elena, has always lived with one foot in the world beyond. She claims to see the shimmer of spirits in the corners of rooms, to hear the distant...

The Frosted Window

The old farmhouse sat hunched at the edge of the marsh, its weather-beaten clapboards the color of bruised plums. I’d rented it for the summer with two friends, needing a...

The Painted Guest

It was the summer I turned nineteen, and I needed to escape the suffocating quiet of my parents’ house. My friend Marcus had invited me to stay at his family’s...

The Lantern Man’s Hour

The night the furnace coughed its last breath, I knew the cold would be our true enemy. It was late autumn in the copper-mining settlement of Girdlestone, a place so...

The Root Cellar Child

The Hollis family lived at the end of Dead Man’s Curve, a gravel road that wound up into the piney woods of the Appalachian foothills. Their farm was a patchwork...

The Visitor in the House

My husband, Daniel, had taken a post in Singapore, and we agreed I’d stay behind in the Canadian Prairies with our two huskies, Nova and Koda, until the housing market...

The Hollow Offering

I’ve always prided myself on being a rational man. Ghosts, faeries, goblins—these were the stuff of childhood tales and superstitious nonsense. So when I moved to the remote village of...

The Unquiet Hearth

The old farmhouse in the Smoky Mountains had been in our family for generations. After my grandmother, Mabel, passed away in 2019, my brother Leo and I decided to move...

The Hollowed Wardrobe

In the autumn of 1984, my wife Elaine and I finally moved into our own place on the outskirts of a small Pennsylvania town. It was a modest bungalow, freshly...

The Kitchen Sink Drips

Elena had always trusted her instincts. They had kept her safe in the crowded streets of Lisbon and through the labyrinthine corridors of her own mind. So when her brother...

The Hollow Nursery Tune

The day the silence broke in our flat on Alder Street, I was halfway through threading an Ethernet cable behind the radiator. My sister, Mira, was on her knees by...

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