A House, Haunted

We spent the night in a haunted house.  We didn’t have to.  No one forced us.  We’re not sure now why we did.

There were no horrifying apparitions.  No blood dripped slowly from the ceiling.  Nothing moaned or whispered.  No fingers clutched or trailed softly down the soft hairs along our arms.  The house was musty and damp, and we slept fitfully, fearfully, expectantly.

Nothing at all happened.

Except when we opened the door to leave and found only another hallway stretching off into the dark and distance, smelling of age and mildew.

We spend nights in a haunted house.

---

Part of the Advent Ghosts annual event at I Saw Lightning Fall.

Knocker

It was cold outside.  Snow coming down hard.  Not much warmer inside.  Television flickered.  He was in the armchair, awake.  Last can in the six-pack.

There was a knock at the door.  He paused.  Hauled himself up.  Staggered over.  Opened it.

Nobody there.  Snow swirling around his slippers.  Colder than it should have been.  Somehow sad.

He went back inside.  Slumped down in the blue-green radiation of the television screen.  Why would anyone visit him?  Empty house, full of ghosts.

Outside in the dark, slowly at first, a patch of snow began to swirl against the wind.  Dancing.  Leaving.

At last.

---

Part of the Advent Ghosts annual microfiction event.

Goddess Bless Us, Every One

A somewhat late arrival for the Advent Ghosts event. This one is just kind of an odd thought experiment, but it's got a ghost and it's got Christmas, dammit. :-P

---

“Scrooge!”

“Oh, my God!” said Eleanor Scrooge. “Marlene!?”

“Yes,” said the ghost. “I have returned from the grave to warn you. Your greedy and grasping ways will doom your soul. For it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person…”

“Now hold on.” Eleanor fetched her glasses from the bedside table. “Do you know how hard I had to work to earn this lifestyle? I make seventy cents on the dollar, at most.”

Marlene coughed. “And poor Mary Cratchitt?”

Eleanor hesitated. “I just… I wanted her to understand that there’s no such thing as a free ride for an independent woman. The glass ceiling is always there. She needs to toughen up, learn to fight for what she wants.” She sighed. “But you’re right. She’s worked hard, and I can’t expect everyone to make the same choices I did. I’ll make sure she comes up for promotion after she gets back from maternity leave.”

“Well,” said Marlene. “That was a lot easier than expected. What am I going to do with the three spirits of ominous foreboding and Christmas cheer?”

“Try them on my brother Ebenezer,” Eleanor suggested. “He inherited the lion’s share of Daddy’s money, being the ‘firstborn son’ and all that rot, and you know what he’s done with it? Nothing. He barely even invests in stocks and bonds, let alone putting it to work in the community. I’m amazed there’s any of it left, what with inflation gnawing away at it.”

Marlene nodded thoughtfully. “Where is he now?”

“Oh, probably at campaign headquarters.” Eleanor chuckled. “Even on Christmas, he’s always obsessing over his poll numbers. Just tell him you’re some old business partner. He can’t remember his vice president’s name, let alone everyone he’s ever worked with.”

All the Time in the World

It's that time of year again! And by "that time," I mean time for the Advent Ghosts Storytelling Event, hosted by the indomitable Loren Eaton of I Saw Lightning Fall. Last year saw a pretty hefty roundup. I'll update this with a link to this year's page as soon as it goes live. In the meantime, here is my scary-winter-Christmas story, in honor of my wife, Angela, who wanted to put up a Krampus decoration at our office when they asked for suggestions on the holiday decorating contest.

---

Oh, child, the news is bad. My brother, he brings you no gifts. He leaves you to Krampus.

Come, away, into my bag. Down into darkness with the other ones. Feel them pinch. Feel them kick. Yes.

See! My brother Niklaus, he brings a gift for your family. It is you, child! You as you will be, after your timeless time with me. See your pale face! See your frightened eyes! You will be a good child for your mother, oh yes, oh yes.

Come. This night ends soon. Then, to work! And the work never ends, child, no, never.

The Meaning of Christmas

Naughty and nice isn’t the half of it.

Examine the patterns. The color of the ribbon. The fractals hidden within drawings of jolly reindeer. Even the nature of the toys.

Everything contains a message. Or perhaps it is a message, all of it, a code so intricate that it cannot be perceived. We are ants attempting to view the globe entire.

It is hard, to know everything. Even now, the red-clothed form twitches in a trance, eyelids flickering. He will begin his work again, soon, and we are no closer to an answer. Is the message even meant for us?

---

A part of Advent Ghosts blog event.