Everyday Witches

Richard was back in his own cabin almost before he knew it, and after locking the door he placed both of his hands flat upon the painted surface and leaned forward to rest his forehead against it. He stood motionless for a few moments, trying to clear his head from the booze and the newest strange incident. He breathed deeply and then released it slowly, aiming for as close to a zen like state as he could manage. He had enjoyed his night out with the boys, it had been good for his soul; but all the storytelling had also deepened the ache of loss he’d been running from. Normally he’d be back at home with Addie right now, telling her all about his new friends and the night he’d had. She’d say something funny about how women who were left alone too long were reportedly doomed to become spinsters. And that if he’d check out front right now he’d find that in fact, the cats were already lining up outside the door with little baskets of knitting yarn and some of those little garden flags. Richard would chuckle and then pick her up and carry her down the hall and to their bedroom, intent on proving to her that she was not, in fact, becoming a spinster.

He smiled just a little bit at the thought and then let his hands fall down to his sides, turning towards the table beside the door where he had piled his luggage. Inside the bag with his clothes, hidden inside a little zip up pocket, lay a small silver urn, inside of which the funeral home had placed Addie’s ashes. He knew that he couldn’t just leave them in there forever but he was dreading having to deal with them too. It’s not like she was in there or anything, but scattering those ashes would bring a sense of finality to it all. It would be the final goodbye. He didn’t know if he had it in him. But this little resort had been one of their favorite places and one of his best memories of the two of them. It would be the perfect place for her to remain.

He unzipped the bag with a hand that trembled slightly and then pulled the urn out of the hidden pocket. He wasn’t ready to do it quite yet but he needed to make his peace with this final act. Stopping to pick up the framed photo that still rested on the nightstand beside the bed, he carried the two items over to the bed itself and then sat down on top of the comforter, cross legged. He then laid the urn and the picture on the bed in front of him, setting each one down gently and with reverence. Looking at the photo of Addie having fun at the beach, he could still hardly believe that all that was left of her was contained in the little silver bottle. A tear streamed down his rugged cheek and he wiped at it angrily, not wanting to break down like this right now. He’d had enough of tears, and angry resentment, and despair over a life cut tragically short.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his set of car keys and hurled it across the room. They hit the wall with a satisfying thump and then slid to the floor. It didn’t do much to assuage his anger and grief, but it felt good anyway. Suddenly the lights in his room dimmed and the room became very cold; raising goose bumps along both of his arms again. The strange electric buzzing sound from before started up again and a headache instantly set in along the back of his head. The wind outside the cabin began to pick up and the branches from one of the trees in between his cabin and the next thrashed against the cabin’s side window.

Richard looked up at the window in surprise and his mouth opened in a little “o”, as he noticed an image of a ghostly face that appeared to be staring into the window from the yard outside. It didn’t have any particular human features, other than the vague shape of a head, and a pair of glowing eyes. He blinked rapidly and then brought a hand up to his own eyes, rubbing at them in disbelief. When he opened them again the ghostly vision had disappeared, but the wind continued to lash the window outside of the cabin. He picked up the framed photo of his wife (which felt oddly warm in his chilled hands) and walked over to the window to peer outside.

A scraping noise came from across the room, not unlike the one he’d experienced involving the bourbon glass; and he whirled to find the lamp on the bedside table sliding across the polished surface. When it reached the edge however, rather than crashing to the floor it levitated and began to float in the air. Then, all around the room the items that sat on every surface began to follow suit. The bedside alarm clock, his car keys that had been resting on the floor by the wall, his I-pad and phone. All of them hung menacingly in the dimly lit air, the buzzing sound continuing all throughout.

In the small kitchenette area a crash sounded and then, as if on cue, the items that had been motionlessly suspended launched themselves at the nearest wall, one by one. Richard hit his knees and brought one hand up to cover his head, the picture of his wife still clutched tightly in the other. After the first round of items hit the wall there was a brief respite. But then everything that was hanging from those walls began to vibrate, rapping against the wall with a frightening, stacatto beat. There was a medium sized mirror next to the window, beneath which Richard now knelt, a large ornately designed wall clock on the opposite wall, and various other paintings and wall hangings, that now rattled with a frightening intensity; each one threatening to pull loose its fastening nails and launch itself across the room.

Richard wasn’t much of a praying man, but he clutched tightly to the picture in his hand and pleaded. With Addie, with God, with the ghost itself, he didn’t know. Something or anything to stop the cascading madness around him. The picture in his hand suddenly grew warmer and he glanced at it in surprise. Addie’s wind swept beach hair appeared to glow and a ghostly image appeared superimposed above the original. It looked just like Addie, but alive. The image’s tiny mouth appeared to be moving, but it was hard to concentrate or to focus, much less to hear, with the dull buzzing sound roaring in the room.

He brought the photo closer to his face, watching in disbelief as the image shifted and appeared to move about in the frame. The rattling on the walls was getting louder and he was sure that the larger objects would come hurtling across the room at any moment, and that it would probably be the end of him. Suddenly, the superimposed image of Addie coalesced into an almost perfect, tiny representation of his wife. The glowing image seemed to be struggling to separate itself from the picture, upon which it had spawned, until it rose with a pop and stood perpendicular to the frame. Standing upon the glass surface, the ghostly image became clearer, and Richard also became aware of what it had been trying so hard to say.

“It’s a poltergeist Richard,” the tiny Addie cried out, in a perfect representation of her voice. “It is feeding off of your emotion and your energy.” The tiny form gestured wildly around the room and then focused back on Richard. “You have to find a way to dispel it,” the small voice continued. “Think about something happy, rob it of the joy of your suffering!”

Richard nodded and closed his eyes. It was difficult to think of anything other than where he was at the moment, but he would try. Holding the picture frame up to his chest, careful to turn the frame around so that he didn’t squash the small ghostly image that protruded from the front of the photo, he pictured Addie as she had been on that day at the beach. They’d been so happy then, but the memory was tinged with grief now.

“It’s not working Richard,” the tiny voice said worriedly. The rattling on the wall was growing even louder. “Try something else!”

Richard allowed his thoughts to drift casually on the events that had happened after the funeral. The impromptu poker game the guys from work had put together to get his mind off of things. The neighbor who had brought him dinner every night for two weeks, insisting that he shouldn’t have to be concerned about such things at the time. The way that Rachel had looked at him when they’d first met in the office that day, seeing him only as an attractive man she’d like to get to know. Then the affection and concern she had showed after finding out about his circumstances. The get together with the boys at the campfire, listening to music and smoking cigars while they bonded over shared stories of their lives.

The chill inside the cabin appeared to lift and Richard noticed suddenly that the dull buzzing sound was gone as well. He unclenched his eyes and let the hand that still clasped tightly to the photo frame drop to his lap. The lights had returned to their usual glow and the wall hangings were no longer vibrating and pulling away from the wall. He gave a sigh of relief and rose to his feet. The little photo in his hand had also lost it ghostly aspect, and now appeared only as the flat depiction of Addie at the beach that it had always been. He set it gently back on the bed beside the urn that had somehow remained untouched throughout the ordeal. Then he sat heavily on the bed beside it, feeling lightheaded. He fell asleep quickly, exhausted, and didn’t wake until the noon day sun streamed through the windows the next day.

A small knock sounded at the cabin door, waking Richard from his restless dreams. He felt groggy and confused, and a little bit hungover. He looked around the still lit room, taking in the mess with disbelief. He had thought that maybe he’d dreamed it all, but it must’ve been real. His personal effects were still strewn around the room, in little piles against the walls. And several of the paintings on the wall hung crooked. The knock sounded at the door again, a little louder this time; and he jumped up from the bed, scooping up his I-pad and his keys and throwing a shirt on top of the broken lamp. He made his way to the door, setting his things down on the table beside it, and looked out the peep hole. Rachel stood on the porch, holding a new microwave awkwardly in both hands. Embarrassed, he opened the door quickly and relieved her of the heavy burden, apologizing profusely as he stepped back into the cabin.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the disheveled room, but then softened as she noticed the picture frame lying beside the urn on the bed.

“Rough night, huh,” she quipped, trying to keep the question out of her voice. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds with this man but there was just something about him.

“Yeah,” Richard replied sheepishly. If only she knew the half of it, he thought to himself. He carried the microwave towards the little kitchenette and looked back over his shoulder at Rachel. “I’m sorry about the mess,” he continued. “I’ll clean it up, I promise.” He had no idea of how he would explain it all away though, and so he changed the subject quickly. “Hey, I really appreciate you getting this new microwave over here so quickly.” He gave her a genuine smile and Rachel brightened in response.

“No worries,” she replied quickly. I figured that it might come in handy and I had a few minutes to spare.” She looked a little guilty as she continued, “Actually I was on my lunch break and nobody else had volunteered, so I figured I’d just come by myself, and see how you were doing.” She paused. “You looked like you were having some fun last night, so I just thought…” she let the sentence trail off and looked guiltily at the mini memorial laid out on the bed. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll just let you be.”

“No,” Richard responded quickly, moving forward to lay a hand on her toned arm. Her honey brown eyes were pinched with hurt and embarrassment, and he hated to see her that way. “Actually, I was just about to do something,” he said, pointing to the small urn on the bed. “And really, I’d hate to do it alone. Would you…” he gestured helplessly, feeling foolish. This was probably the last thing in the world that Rachel would want to be involved in right now.

Rachel looked surprised. “Absolutely,” she said quickly. “Nobody should have to go through something like this alone. “I would actually love to be there with you.” She smiled softly at Richard and then moved towards the bed, picking up the photo frame and looking at it with interest. “She was a lovely woman,” she said softly. “You two were very lucky to have each other.”

“You know what, I was,” Richard said, a little surprised at the admission and the lack of pain that came along with it. “I was lucky to have her, and I’m going to try to see it that way from now on.” He looked thoughtful. “Let her memory just reside there, you know? Quit holding onto it all so tightly and all that.”

Rachel nodded solemnly. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. She’ll always have a place in your heart, but you still have to live the rest of your life.” She glanced again at the silver framed photo and then set it back onto the bed beside the urn, before stepping back from the bed. She wasn’t going to rush things. He’d do it when he was ready.

Richard took a deep breath and nodded, then he leaned forward and picked up the urn from its resting place. Cradling it gently in one hand he looked back at Rachel. “Okay,” he said with conviction. “I’m ready, are you?” Rachel nodded and then followed him as he turned and headed out the cabin door. They turned the corner and walked around to the yard at the back.

Being that this was the honeymoon suite, the yard in the back of the cabin was landscaped a little differently than the others. Where most of them had only a few trees and an open fire pit, this one had a little gazebo that was closed in on three sides with latticed wood, open only on the side facing the rear of the cabin. Growing in a ring around the gazebo were several of the red maples that Addie had loved so much. In the summer, the leaves were a beautiful purplish green and created a colorful, dark halo around the open top of the sitting area. Richard and Rachel circled around to the back of the gazebo at a slow, reverent pace and he stopped behind the furthermost tree. Uncapping the lid from the body of the urn he glanced quickly at Rachel and then looked towards the base of the tree. “To love,” he said softly, “And to the end of grief.” Then he poured the ashes out in a semicircle along the base of the tree.

Rachel didn’t really know what to say, but she was honored that he had invited her to be a part of this most intimate occasion. She reached a hand over and laid it gently along Richard’s bicep, nodding and smiling sweetly. A soft breeze wafted through the yard, cooling their skin and tousling their hair. Richard gave a little salute to the sky and then kissed the inside of his hand, holding it open and blowing the kiss to eternity.

“Well,” he said, turning back to face Rachel. “I can’t promise anything right now, but I would absolutely love to find a place around here with some decent tacos. What are you doing for dinner?”

To head back to Part 1, click here- https://everydaywitches.blog/2026/09/21/grief-a-short-ghost-story-part-1/

To head back to Part 2, click here- https://everydaywitches.blog/2026/09/21/grief-a-short-ghost-story-part-2/

If you’d like to check out the novel Everyday Witches- Everyday Witches: chapter listing