Present Ghost

Telling stories


serial fiction

Morning scene from “The Fault”

Photo by Wang Ward

Morning came too quickly for both of them. He had to meet with his boss to discuss the agenda for the all-company meeting taking place that afternoon, and she didn’t say what was causing her to hurry. Her lunch was already sitting out on the counter with the brown paper curled forward like a grade-schooler’s lunch.

All it needs is her name written on it with permanent marker.

When she wasn’t looking, he scrawled it across the side opposite the fold, and then he busied himself with pouring cereal. He hoped she would notice the decoration when she picked it up and headed out the door, but she forgot the bag altogether. He ran down the stairs after her to give it to her.

“Have fun at school, dear!” he said, handing her the bag with her name facing her.

She blushed her thanks.

“You are the biggest nerd. I’ve got to go!”

Before opening her car door, she surprised him with a light kiss on the mouth. Then, she threw her stuff and herself into the vehicle and drove away. He watched until she turned from their driveway, and then he walked in to get his things because he was going to be late.

He was shocked, but he told himself that the kiss meant nothing. It was just routine, a goodbye given upon departure perfunctorily, not passionately.  Continue reading “Morning scene from “The Fault””

The Gingerbread Man, Part I

Cover by Brock Weaver, 2013. For more examples of his work, visit

Before gingerbread was ever shaped like men, and long before gingerbread boys popped from cookie sheets and ran out the doors of European homes taunting lonely old women and sly foxes, it was baked in the shapes of all the wild beasts on earth—some not seen for at least ten centuries before the very first Christmas. Continue reading “The Gingerbread Man, Part I”

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