The mirrors don't have anyone inside, but the man blames it on the dust and keeps exploring the apartment. The floor is algid through the soles of his shoes. The shower drip-drip-drips behind the plastic curtain with a tatty print. There's a presence abaft the curtain, and for a moment they stare at each other through the paper-thin screen —
but when he pulls it back, there's nobody there.
Whatever walks there, walks alone is the twenty-ninth of the announced features included within The Needle Drops... Volume One; a short tale of a specifically modern haunted "house". With Flash Fiction, we aim to highlight smaller pieces rampant with imagination and experimentation.
The man arrives at his new sojourn. The apartment is fine, as far as a one-night-stands with a home can go; no personality, obviously uncared for. Neglected is the word. Awkward is the word. Unfamiliar is the word. Haunting is, most certainly, the word. But when it comes to two faceless, character-less entities, who is haunting who? Can the place be considered unhaunted if it lacks? Can you leave it in the morning with a vague feeling that you have just met somebody?
“But when it comes to two faceless, character-less entities, who is haunting who?”
Sofia Ezdina is a writer and queer woman from Russia, who befriends stray animals and whispers eerie things. While her main field of expertise is fiction, she sometimes writes on ecological issues in Russia, examples of which can be found in The Revelator and Reckoning.
Her works appeared in Jalada Africa, Enchanted Conversation, and Air and Nothingness Press. One of her poems was also named as a runner-up for Barjeel Poetry Prize. You can stalk her on Twitter, which remains inconveniently bilingual.