A Haunting
Not your typical horror — (A 100 word micro-fiction)
Oct 24, 2023
Grandma Miriam didn’t die that day. She was dead in that bed for years. A machine filtering air without thought or dream. I didn’t watch the men carry her out. I watched my mom stir sadness and relief, a cocktail of guilt and freedom.
It never occurred to me her spirit would linger. After all, wasn’t she tired of the loneliness and faux-wood panel? Her haunting looked a lot like the last years of her life. No toppled plates or stirring drapes for Grandma. She watched from my mother’s face, whispering horror stories of a future I wasn’t prepared to live.
On the haunt for inspo?
