952 Walnut Street by Jake Troxell
There’s a ghost living in my house. I haven’t told my wife. We don’t think she’d understand.
I know: this is short. There is obviously a longer story that should follow from this but I enjoy the quick chill. I wrote this on a scrap of paper in me and my wife’s first apartment. I’ve long since lost the paper but the story has stayed the same. Ironic considering our current house is 100% haunted. More on that later.