I remember this. You may think they get lost in the greys, but there are some of us who read evvverything.😉

“The Beedi Man”

“The Lady in the Attic”

When my boyfriend and I moved in together in San Francisco, we rented an apartment which was basically half the upstairs of an older home converted into apartments. The other half of the upstairs was another apartment where our landlord, Sue, lived. Sue was an interesting character who at first came off as an angry…

I posted this a few years ago, but with all the scary stories involving children, I thought I’d throw this out again as well. My update is that (as we thought) our old neighborhood has sustained a substantial re-haul. The row house is still modest in size, but the amount of time, effort and money thrown into making…

I posted this very late a few years ago, wanted to try again.

Been reading this for years, and finally putting my own down! This story takes place a few years back, but my memory of this afternoon is incredibly crisp, even though the rest of the year was something of a haze…

The house I lived in from age 8-18 was 100% haunted.
The house was two stories – built into the side of a hill. My room was upstairs in the old part of the house (it was about 50 years old when we moved in) and my parents were downstairs in the added-on part of the house – the add-on jutted out over the hill incline…

A Woman Scorned Will Haunt You

TW for mention of suicide.

In the mid 90's I worked as part of an engineering team for one of the major telecoms that bid on state-sponsored Relay Service for Hearing Impaired customers. If we won a state, we built a call center there with the necessary technology. It meant living in a hotel for a couple of weeks, for my team. One member of my…

Warring Metaphysical Shops

This is about an uncle who was a real-life rocket scientist. He worked on the rocket fuel formula that got men to the moon. He was my favourite uncle, my father figure as my own was indifferent to me at best. It was a horrible shock when he got colon cancer. He married into my father’s family but was such a good guy…

The Voice in the Basement

When my dad was a teenager in the late 1950s, he used to work as a dishwasher at a Mexican restaurant that was near the local cemetery. To get to work, he could either walk the long way around the cemetery, which was twice as far, or cut straight through it. More often than not, he’d opt to go through the cemetery.

I’ve shared this before, but it was lost in the grays and/or posted too late, so I’ll give it another shot.

I’m sure it’s because I’m a barren millennial spinster with no prospects but I’m also sure it’s because I watched my mother and aunts struggle in their relationships with men that I am convinced that marriages with men are a true dice roll in life.