Write about a person who meets with the ghost of an old friend for tea every so often.
Posted in Fantasy on Jun 19, 2021
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✍️ 116 stories
“Room of the Departed” by Waverley Stark
It was very late at night, but the room was still full of chatter and the clinking of cups. The glass chandelier reflected off of the polished tables; thick red carpets coated the floor and the occasional servant floated past in a pure-white uniform. He was there on the side, dabbing sweat off his brow and nervously massaging the place where his right index finger used to be. He jumped at an of...
“Falling in Love with a Haunted House” by Najwa Zandlo
Not all hauntings happen in Victorian-style houses with stained-glass windows and wrap-around porches. They aren’t limited to old, porcelain dolls, or leather-bound books with ancient languages scribbled inside. People can be haunted, too - hearts
“Ice Cream With Grandpa” by Stephanie Albright
On September 24, 1981, I was home alone. The doorbell rang, my grandpa was standing there with a container of chocolate ice cream in his hand and a big ole' smile on his face. My dog was jumping up and down with excitement and inside so was I. I grabbed two bowls and the ice cr...
“Spirits Don't Catch Colds” by Elliott Laurence
I figured with all this grand universe to explore you likely wouldn’t be back for a while. What gives?“Wow...It’s been damn near a month⎯and the green tea with lemon and honey will help with this cold.”“You don’t look sick to me.”
“Tea Time ” by Daniella Cressman
The full moon shone through the window. Jacqueline’s fingers gripped a green mug, filled with chamomile tea. It was Tuesday. She met with Hitler every Tuesday. The scripture said to keep your enemies closer than your friends and this ghost of a man had convinced her that he was her ally. Somehow, he’d spun his story into a tale of heroism. He’d framed the killings as political accomplishments. She sighed. The man’s eyes bore through hers, charismatic and filled with sorrow, shame, and sick pride. He was the kind of man you’d believ...
“Tales from Yújìn” by Bree Kokiri
“The wicker basket, with the red stain, please.” Luò Wei handed the stall keeper ¥34, and dropped what he was carrying into its new home. “Xiè xie!” The young man nodded. “You’re very welcome.” Luò Wei replied, smiling. He was ashamed to think it had been a few years since he’d last visited his home village of Yújìn. It was a historic and quaint town, where everyone knew everyone. The cobble streets were decorated beautifully for the festival. Despite being on an island, the agricult...
“Miss Defay's French Lessons” by Tori Routsong
Emmerson flinched as the cashier reached out with the change. “Your change is three sixty-three, and I’ll have those out to you in just a second.” “Thanks,” Emmerson murmured. Rubbing the palms of his hand with his thumb nervously, he sat down at the table across from the coffee stall and avoided eye contact with the other customers. If he had his phone this wouldn’t be a problem, but the Holly Circlet hated technology so. Emmerson popped his knuckles, lost in thought, and jumped when the barista called “Hot ginger...
“Jilly and Karianne” by Oliver Paradox
Jilly had been dead for decades. Everyone knew that. Everyone also knew that Karianne was a witch. Those were just the well-known facts of the neighborhood.Karianne wasn’t even her real name. She had forgotten a long time ago. It wasn’t memory loss, just the fact that no one had ever asked her. Except for one person, Jilly.They had met when Karianne was going to a museum. <...
“A tale but true” by Ola Hotchpotch
Many children loose their parents in childhood. Sometimes due to death of a parent or divorce and separation between them. I must have been a little more than six years old. I can still recall the day, the shock, sorrow and the loneliness that followed from that day.*********When I came home from school in the afternoon I found the front door locked. It was not unusual. Maa did that quite often. She would go to buy either vegetables and other stuff or go to watch movie. My Uncle's house was in the same locality. I used to go...
“A photograph never lies” by Pamela Saunders
Ruth glanced at the black and white portrait photograph in its silver frame on her dressing table and made a decision.“Time for another meetup” she announced, as she picked up the picture and took it into the lounge, where she placed it on her dining table.Soon the old lady was bringing in a tray that held everything needed for two peo...
“You Will Look a Ghost in the Eyes, but Not Me” by Lily Kingston
People don’t make eye contact with me anymore. Most either look away or put on sunglasses so their staring goes ‘unnoticed’ and people won’t think they’re weird. Though, I doubt anyone in this store would consider them weird when they’ve got me to compare to.As I glide into check out, the cashier fixes their gaze on the pink feather boa I’m buying and already wearing to avoid eye contact. I take...
“The White Tea Wish.” by Brandon Johnson
Harry was excited to finally move into his own house. It was an old cabin located deep in the woods of the countryside. He was lucky enough to inherit it from his family after his grandpa, Joe, passed away of old age two years prior.Harry was riding along in his pickup truck while remembering the good memories he had of Joe. Harry remembered going fishing, camping, and the other miscellaneous adventures they went on together. However, the one thing he remembered the most was white tea. More specifically, he remembered how they used...
“Tea with Leonardo” by Tia Jain
It is a foggy summer day. However, all the sunshine is gone and the rain is slowly pouring out of the unreal clouds. just how Leonardo liked it.I walk down the street to the library because Leonardo says technological advancements are overrated and just increase pollution. he's right though.I step over each large puddle of water and let the whirls of oxygen caress my deep blue hair. I head to the dark brown establishment, inside, the smell of finely roasted coffee arouses the room. I look at the d...
“Waiting for Manny” by Mike Garrigan
Every Saturday, from 10:00 am to 11:00 am, Fred Flannigan sat on the third bench to the right at entrance of Oscar Park. Sometimes, his best friend, Manny Mandinkos, joined him for the hour. When Manny actually showed up—you never could tell with Manny Mandinkos—Manny brought a thermos of camomile tea. Manny was unpredictable like that. Manny was also dead. A year ago, Manny decided, on a whim, to climb Mt. Everest. He did none of the rigorous training one normally does before ...
“Little Cafe on the Hill” by Ben K
Once a year, every year. I take a special winter trip into the mountains. I always pack the night before, and wake up early to leave. Embracing the chilly morning air, it doesn't take long to toss the few bags I take with me in the trunk. Brew a quick cup of coffee for the drive, lock up the house and I'm on the road by six. I'll let the radio play whatever it will as I hop on the highway to the mountains; sometimes I might even drive in silence and just listen to the sounds of the road. Cruising along I slip past any major traffic befor...
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