Ghost stories from Washington

The Porcelain Smile

The summer I turned twelve, my father’s new job dragged us from the endless spruce forests of Alaska to the sun-baked plains of eastern Colorado. We settled into a sprawling,...

The Last Page

In the autumn of 2004, when the world seemed smaller and my imagination was my greatest escape, I found myself nestled on the worn couch in our cramped living room....

The Hollow Marker

It was a humid August night in the summer of 2015, and I was seventeen, riding shotgun in my friend Maya’s rusty Chevy. We lived in a small desert town...

The Grease Stain

The winter morning light filtered through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the linoleum floor of my kitchen. I was alone, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the...

The Ledger of Ashes

The day we moved into the old Cormorant House on Birchwood Lane, the moving van broke down three blocks away. The driver, a man with a face like crumpled newspaper,...

The Leased Earth

After my discharge, I settled in the dry flatlands of eastern Colorado, where the sun cracked the soil and the wind never shut up. The only place I could rent...

The Bronze Leaf

I’ve always found peace in the old Grove Hill Cemetery, not the grand one downtown, but the smaller, forgotten one tucked behind the abandoned textile mill. It’s a place where...

The Porch Light at Dusk

For eleven years, I rented a small bungalow in a district of faded row houses that had once quartered the families of railway workers. Every structure on the block was...

The Weight of Warmth

Mara first noticed it at thirteen, in the cramped basement of her aunt’s antique shop. Not the shadow itself, but the sudden cold that crept up her spine like a...

The Unburnt Grove

The house on Carrigan Bluff had a way of making you forget the sun. My name is Elias, and I moved there in the autumn of 2004, fresh from a...

The Coal-Colored Signal

In the late autumn of 2017, I was eight months pregnant with our first child, and my husband, Marcus, had two sons from his previous marriage. We needed more space,...

The Blue Halo

In the autumn of 2001, I was sixteen, living in the small town of Millbrook, Vermont. My nightly ritual was to watch the same VHS tape of a cheesy sci-fi...

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