Good Girls Doing Wicked Things - A Short Story Collection

Fast and Ghosty

These are some short 200 word stories that I wrote based on weekly prompts the @Ghost profile shares under this hashtag.

Prompt: Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let them go. - Sue Grafton

"One time, Tara," I whisper angrily to the ghostly figure standing next to me in the mirror. "For god's sake, just give me one time!"

She raised an eyebrow and curled her lip. "No fucking way, sis. This is the deal we made – I get this and you get everything else."

Tears filled my eyes. "I just want to know what it's like..."

Her harsh laughter filled my head. "To what... have his body shudder with pleasure as he groans your name when he's making love to you?"

"Yes," I choke out as I swallow a sob.

"You should've thought about that before you killed me."

"It was an accident."

"Bullshit. You were always jealous of me. We may have been twins, but I was prettier and smarter and more popular... and you hated me for it."

I hung my head. She was right, I'd been jealous of her, and while the wreck had been an accident, I always wondered if it was possible that subconsciously...

Before I could finish that thought, I felt the coldness on my back and was suddenly watching my naked body climbing onto my husband's lap and her voice saying, "Where were we, baby?"

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Prompt: Of all the ghosts, the ghosts of lost loves are the worst. -Arthur Conan Doyle
(2nd place winner)

Gladys woke suddenly but managed to keep still in spite of the dread that filled her at the sound of his voice. The irony was that for more than 40 years this voice filled her with anything but dread.

Love, trust, and desire? Yes. Anger, exasperation, and annoyance? Yes.  Never, not once, had she felt dread or fear.

That had changed 126 days ago when her late husband had appeared in the kitchen of the house they'd shared their whole marriage. He sat at the kitchen table as he had for years and smiled at her.

"You made a promise, Gladys. It's time to join me."

She knew what promise she'd made, but it had been made so that he would let go and be in peace.

Every day since, Harold had visited for longer periods and had gotten more and more insistent. Gladys knew it would never end. And she had promised after all.

"You made a promise, Gladys. It's time to join me."

She sighed, uncapping the bottle of pain pills before repeating the words that had been a promise and a catchphrase the entirety of their marriage."You go on, Harold, I'll be nipping at your heels."

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Prompt: I'd love to come back as the most annoying ghost ever. - Guillermo Del Toro
(1st place winner)

My grandmother told me as a child, that there was a period between death and heaven when souls would remain to carry out 'unfinished business'. 

Guess what?

Granny was right and I've never had more fun.

First up? The mean girls: Nair in the shampoo, favorite shirts gone missing, a woman calling and asking for their husband, dinners burning mysteriously. They were so annoyed!

Next was the people who made work miserable. Who knew that hitting delete on an important document would be so fun? Or an email calling the boss an ignorant jackhole... a phone taken off mute at an unfortunate moment... such sublime revenge!

I saved the most annoying behavior for him, the man who swore his love through sickness and health, but left post-diagnosis. For months now, he and his healthy new bride have dealt with flat tires, dead batteries, lost keys and wallets and phones. Calls during the night and texts from other women... and men, unexplained withdrawals from bank and savings accounts, and browser histories filled with visits to porn and dating sites.

The only sad part of watching them destroy each other is knowing my business is almost done.