Ghost stories from Florida

The Ember in the Ash

The old farmhouse had a smell of rust and dried weeds, and Lena had grown used to the way the floorboards groaned under her weight like a dog sighing in...

The Figure in the Static

Three years have passed since the night I woke to find myself standing at my bedroom window, staring at the dark shape that had been watching me. I’m twenty-one now,...

The Porcelain Bride

In the autumn of 1998, I landed a senior position at a tech firm in the Pacific Northwest, a far cry from the sweltering humidity of my previous life in...

The Rusted Reliquary

I’m not a man given to fancies. Thirty years in the Navy, then another ten as a harbor master, and I’ve seen enough to fill a dozen logbooks with the...

The Wilted Crown

The air in my grandmother’s house always tasted of dust and dried lavender, a sweetness that clung to the back of the throat like a lie. I’d been back for...

The Porcelain Keeper

In the dusty attic of the old Calloway house, where the floorboards creaked like tired bones and the air tasted of mothballs and forgotten summers, eleven-year-old Elsie discovered a wooden...

The Recursive Room

Six years in the Alder House, and I’d convinced myself that the past was just coincidence—a child’s imagination fed by too many late-night horror films. The move to the quiet...

The Gown in the Static

In 2011, I took a position at a lakeside resort in the off-season, a sprawling lodge that had seen better decades. I met my future wife, Elara, there; she was...

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