Comment here with anything short, strange, entertaining or horrifying that you want out ~ghost friends~ to read at our Haunted Brunch even on October 31st at 1pm.
Haunted Brunch spooky short submissions!
Comment here with anything short, strange, entertaining or horrifying that you want out ~ghost friends~ to read at our Haunted Brunch even on October 31st at 1pm.
I remember exactly the way I died:
The stage hand came forward with a knife,
And plunged it deep into my eye,
So deep it took my life.
Now I am a ghost, a shade
That haunts the theater, play after play.
They have a light that guides my way.
You know what I get paid?
A ghost is broke,
So he drinks and drinks,
And goes to parties drunk and stinks.
He isn’t noticed, thankfully.
Here’s a party: next Friday.
Won’t you come and join the ghost?
Donate, please, to ease his pain?
Drink before and raise a toast?
Donate more?
Details, find them on the poster
The old ghost made, the jokester.
It was a simple candle. Flicker. Flicker. A whisper. Gone.
incandescent glowering, narrowing eyebrows like edges on a neon sign. I raised an arm but it was useless. Because I wasn’t there. Not really. Not anymore. Was I ever? There?
Once, yes. A cold October evening, in a year long forgotten, seldom remembered even while lived. Back before eventness. Before real life was horror and horror was comedy. I was there, sitting between the banks that we could barely see…we…oh yes, you were there too. I had nearly forgotten! Do you remember?
Of course not. Well, I suppose I barely did. That’s understandable. I imagine. For a being who is capable of a level of understanding that supersedes the natural. But I have always been subnatural. Robotic. Half a person. And now, not even that.
I wonder if they still have those lights up on the bridge. Did they ever replace the one that shattered? Could they have possibly found a light to shine more blue than your eyes, that night, as the river flowed around us and the sky was quiet but the squirrels were chirping and the birds were croaking and the frogs were shimmying out of bushes and into the trees?
It’s possible that I may be confusing some things. Forgive me- it’s been awhile since I’ve seen them. Living things. Natural life. It really is a circle. I just haven’t matched the radius yet.
Hold on to the edge as we approach the whisper. It was a simple few, but that didn’t matter. Words. It was a simple few words; the words escape me. The word ‘word’ escaped me too, for a moment. I think it’s back now. It was a simple few. A simple few. Wor…What have I become?
A few, a lot, an abundance, a louse – unimportant. But important. One felt them. I felt them. We felt them. You made them, and for aught I know you meant them. And it was done. I was done. You were done. I was undone. You had done what you had done. We were done. Not one had won. All words were done. Not quite, but nearly, every one.
The half-light from the distance. Flickering. Whispers. Shattered. Not all, just one. It was enough. Not quite a candle. Not quite a lantern. Not quite machinal. Not quite alive.
Just like me. Was I ever? Alive? Did I ever? Try.
I try but can’t imagine- what a life, before goodbye.
Now I am a ghost, a shade
That haunts the theater, play after play.
They have a light that guides my way.
You know what I get paid?
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