I stared at the computer screen, the recipe for blueberry cobbler staring back at me as my daughter’s voice, plaintive as a puppy’s whine, pleaded, “Please, Mom, why can’t I go?
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Girl with Pearls in Her Eyes by Fanni Sütő
here are ghosts on the Underground.You don’t notice them because they look just like you, or a ticket inspector. They clutch their lost life as
THE YELLOW WALLPAPER by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
It is very seldom that mere ordinary people like John and myself secure ancestral halls for the summer.
A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house, and reach the height of romantic felicity—but that would be asking too much of fate!
The Call of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft
In the depths of the ocean, an ancient evil stirs from its aeons-long slumber, sending ripples of madness across the globe. As a young man delves into his late uncle’s research, he uncovers a terrifying conspiracy
THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH
THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH by Edgar Allen Poe The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, […]
When the Moon is Full and Bright by Ty Green
Blanche took the high ground, like Grandma and Grampa had taught her. On the Chaney Junior High School playground, this was the top of the jungle gym, a towering monstrosity of looping stainless steel that few of the other kids ever dared to scale.
Afterward by Edith Wharton
A wealthy American couple buys an old English manor rumored to be haunted, but they’re told they won’t realize it’s haunted until “afterward.”
The Phantom ‘Rickshaw by Rudyard Kipling
The Phantom ‘Rickshaw THE PHANTOM ‘RICKSHAW May no ill dreams disturb my rest, Nor Powers of Darkness me molest. —Evening Hymn. One of the few advantages that India has over England is a great Knowability. After five years’ service a man is directly or indirectly acquainted with the two or three hundred Civilians in his […]
The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson
Every night in the year, four of us sat in the small parlour of the George at Debenham—the undertaker, and the landlord, and Fettes, and myself.
The Bottle Imp by Robert Louis Stevenson
There was a man of the Island of Hawaii, whom I shall call Keawe; for the truth is, he still lives, and his name must be kept secret; but the place of his birth was not far from Honaunau, where the bones of Keawe the Great
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