The Weeping Hollow
My life before the move was unremarkable, a quiet existence in a dusty Kansas town where the only mysteries were the cornfields that seemed to breathe at night. I never...
My life before the move was unremarkable, a quiet existence in a dusty Kansas town where the only mysteries were the cornfields that seemed to breathe at night. I never...
I’m not writing this for sympathy or for someone to tell me it’s all in my head. I know it’s in my head; that’s the problem. My name is Casey,...
In the summer of 2012, my wife Elena and I were converting the spare room next to our bedroom into a nursery for our first child, a boy due in...
The night we found the lath house was the night we lost our nerve for ghost hunting. My friends and I, armed with little more than a cracked phone and...
When I was nine, my great-aunt Marisol came to live with us in our cramped apartment complex in North Miami. She was ancient, with skin like crumpled parchment, and dark,...
I never believed in ghosts. Even as a child, while other kids trembled at tales of hook-handed killers or phantom hitchhikers, I found such stories entertaining but hollow. My parents...
The first time I noticed them, I thought it was a reaction to something in the soap. It was a Tuesday evening, June 19th, and I had just stepped out...
The summer before my senior year, my parents shipped me off to my grandmother’s house in the sleepy coastal town of Edgewater, Oregon. The house was a relic from the...
The house on Morrow Lane had always felt like a living thing to me, its creaks and sighs a kind of breathing we’d learned to ignore. My twin sister Maya...
The first time I saw him, I was four years old, lying in bed with a fever that made the walls breathe. My room was on the second floor of...
The house on Larkspur Lane had always felt wrong to Mira, but the worst was the bathroom off her parents’ old bedroom. It was a strange, rounded room with a...
The house on Maple Street was supposed to be our fresh start. After months of cramped apartments and financial strain, the two-story Victorian with its wraparound porch and overgrown garden...
The first time I saw it, I thought it was a trick of the light. A swirl of dead leaves, kicked up by a gust of wind, dancing across the...
In the winter of 2014, my grandmother, Elena, who was more of a mother to me than my own, passed away in a small hospice room in rural Vermont. She...
Our home stood at the edge of a saltmarsh, where the reeds whispered secrets to the wind. My husband, Elias, and I had bought the old farmhouse for its isolation...
I’ve never told anyone about the summer I turned nine, the summer we moved to the edge of the Blackwood Forest in northern Maine. My father had inherited a hunting...
My grandmother, Elara, always said the sea talked to her. Not in words, but in currents, in the way the salt clung to her skin long after she’d left the...
The first time I saw the photograph, I was nine years old, standing on a chair to reach the top shelf of my grandmother’s closet. It was tucked inside a...
My family has owned the old lighthouse keeper’s cottage on the Maine coast since my great-grandfather bought it in 1911, just four years after it was built. The original lighthouse,...
In the autumn of 1992, the desert heat still clung to the prefab housing of Fort Meridian, a sprawling Air Force installation that seemed to float on a sea of...
The migration from Virginia to the Gulf coast of Florida should have felt like shedding a skin, but for me it was the opposite: a tightening. I was four, and...
I was six when I first saw the sky peel back like a rotten orange. My father had pulled over to adjust the chains on the old pickup, and I...
I never told anyone about the clock. Not my parents, not my friends, not even my brother, Leo, who shared my room back then. It was our grandmother’s clock, a...
After the divorce, my mother and I moved into a small waterfront house in a quiet cove, far from the cramped apartment we’d shared with my father. The house was...
Listening to the woods...
🕯 Log in to view your wish history and Willow's responses.
LOG IN TO THE WOODS