Find Your Next Read

(horror, short story) At the end of the song, a ghost is waiting. It ripples in the air. It is a hint of iridescent blue, so subtle it can scarcely be seen. If it makes any noise it’s not audible over the music. He is listening to the first verse, the one he wrote the first day he saw her. He wrote it down on a napkin in ballpoint pen. Then he went and introduced himself, because a woman who could inspire words like that was worth keeping around.