Spirits Stories

Lorn Elera stared up at Tan Maldrin. The ancient palace loomed above the priestess of the Denith Lorn, crowning the hill on the West side of the ruined town where she stood. A shadowy figure stood atop the central keep, silhouetted against the light of the setting sun. A low howl reached Elera’s ears. It slowly rose to a wail. The sound filled her heart with darkness. It was not terrifying, but depressing; a noise filled...

“Almost there, Anta” Tana called out, “Just keep pushing. I see the head.” The healer was kneeling before the young woman’s spread legs, watching carefully as the baby’s head started to emerge. Anta’s mother knelt by the girl’s head, holding her hand and offering encouragement. “Here he comes, Anta,” Tana said, “Keep pushing.” Tana moved in to help guide the baby the rest of the way out. The healer thought this was a boy...

This housewife was a bit depressed Voices told her to check the roast She now seemed to be possessed Led to her kitchen by a demon ghost She was told to take a bite Voices told her not to stop The voices seemed a bit uptight The roast was soaking in beef stock She ate that roast in one sitting Her stomach was bulging out Her skirt would need a fitting Those voices started to shout She ate that roast and left the bone Spir...

The walk seemed different today. I lived near these woods almost all my life. I played in the woods. I built many little hovels using branches and undergrowth as cover. Instead of going through neighbor's yards to get to the woods, I walked down the street to the private road that bisected the woods. A local university owned the woods and the road. The university received the woods in an endowment as a place to study and...

Deus Ex Machina is a phrase that made itself ever evident on a cold November night. It was in the late 1960's in a small Arizonan town and was one of the few towns that still ran early model locomotives. It often made for good and quick travel between destinations, however on this night it brought something else. On this night it was accompanied by something old yet familiar, you see these townsfolk had lived here for gen...

The ocean's wavesCall out your nameEach time They crash to the shore.The beating voiceFrom nature's ployReverberates softly Filling my lost soul.The rushing soundKeeps hammering downMemories put away Long ago.The receding wakeNever gives and only takesAway again what's already gone That I won't ever get back.Yet it's peaceful here,'Cause I still feel you nearAll around me With each rolling slap.Your spirit slowly driftsAl...

Beneath the ground you are alone completely by yourself. In an urn you simply chill on your wife’s closet shelf. Before they put you in the soil you pray for absolution. After you’re a London Broil you could be air pollution. The remnant of your buried form is ghostly and ethereal. The remnants of your cremated one can be spread on breakfast cereal. Underneath in sealed concrete you simply fade and rot. Cooked above you s...