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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SunHeadPrime on 2026-05-18 21:39:10+00:00.

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"I'm telling you, my new place is super haunted."

Geri, my reluctant farmer's market buddy, took a sip of her iced coffee and tipped her oval-lensed sunglasses down to give me 'the look.' Years of friendship had forged the stare—our non-verbal way of calling bullshit on each other in a friendly, non-confrontational way. Last week, when Geri was certain her hot neighbor was stealing her packages to break the ice, I gave her the same stare.

Today was my turn.

"I swear," I said with a laugh. "It's weird."

"You always say you're in a haunted house. Like, every place you've ever stayed for over two days. Remember when you said that AirB&B in Phoenix was haunted and it turned out only to be raccoons in the attic?"

"Valid," I said, stopping at a cheesemonger to size up some Brie. "Maybe I am primed for it, but I'm telling you, this new place is haunted. Like, Poltergeist-level haunted."

"Clowns under the bed and skeletons in the pool? That's what you're saying?"

I put down the Brie, picked up a hunk of Camembert, and shrugged. "Well, not that dramatic…."

Geri pounced. "So it's your typical clowns in bed and skeletons in the closet," she deadpanned. "Assuming, of course, Late Night Luke has stopped by," she added, lowering her sunglasses and giving me a wink.

"Luke and I have finally fully separated. He has not been near the bed nor the closet."

"And yet the rumors persist," she said, nodding at the elephant ear stand. "Want one? My treat?"

Cinnamon and sugar on a dinner plate-sized hunk of fried dough sounded amazing, but I let my better angels win out. "I'm here to help eat clean. New place, new me."

"Your loss," she said, walking over and placing an order for one. The fried dough and cinnamon sugar hung around me like a delicious storm cloud. I kicked myself for letting my stupid brain demand that I make better choices.

Wanting to move the conversation away from delicious carnival food, I shifted back to the house. "So, while I may not have trees assaulting me or anything, I swear there's something up with this new place."

"How so?"

"Doors open by themselves. Windows open and shut all the time. Floorboards creak. My things get moved around. All the classics."

The elephant-ear man handed Geri her prize. She thanked him and held it up to her head for comparison. It was larger. She rolled it and took a bite, a smear of cinnamon sugar butter dripping onto her shirt. "Shit," she said, wiping it off.

"Karma," I joked. "Tell me how horrible it tastes."

"It's so gross," she said, playing along. "Tastes like dirt, cigarette butts, and poor decisions. A real late-night Luke kinda snack."

I cackled. "Then I will for sure pass."

"That's what you always say and then," she sang, finishing with a note holding crescendo of, "The… Dirt…bag…re…turns!"

A passerby clapped, and Geri bowed. I shook my head. "Not anymore. It's clean eating and clean dating. No elephant ears. No Lukes."

"Proud of you, seriously," she said, holding up the elephant ear. "I have the willpower of a five-year-old. It's hard to change. Same goes for ditching Luke. You deserve better."

"Thanks."

"No problem," she said, taking another bite. "That said, and not to rain on your haunted house parade, but all that ghost activity sounds like normal things. The house is old, and you're forgetful. Big leap to ghosts, Livvy."

"I know, I know, but I swear. The vibe is off. I even smudged the house with sage, but the aura is still weird."

"Probably because your place now reeks like sage," she said, stopping at the last stall. "Well, we've reached the end of the market. What's your clean livin' haul so far?"

I examined the contents of my bag and frowned. "Five carrots, a head of lettuce, and some goat cheese."

"Jesus, that's it? We've been here for an hour."

"I've gotta be less choosy."

"With veggies and…."

"Ah," I said, cutting her off before the joke. "No. Just, no."

"You wanna be less choosy? Start by picking up some of these grapes, huh? Taste like cotton candy," the man at the stall behind us said in a voice so gravely it'd grade railroad tracks. "Or some cherries. Got some hummus, too. I'll let it go for less so I don't have to haul it back."

"Cherries sound good," I said, reaching for my wallet.

"Also, your floorboards are creaking because of a loose subfloor. That or the weather changing. Contraction and expansion, things of that nature. Brother is a carpenter, if you need someone to fix them."

"Um, thanks, but I'm renting. I will take the cherries, though."

"Lemme wrap 'em up for you."

Geri leaned in close, imitating the man's voice. "Lemme see your floorboards, honey. I got somethin' that'll fix 'em."

We both started giggling when a bear-shaped shadow fell across us. We turned and were greeted by a young man holding a large Mylar balloon of a besuited bear holding a sign that read "Bear-y Nice!" The bear was smiling with glowing apple cheeks.

The man himself was also "Bear-y nice." Tall and narrow, he had a baby face with a smile that showed off the smallest dimples in his cheeks. His eyes were the palest blue I'd ever seen outside a picture of the surface of Neptune.

"Sorry if the balloon frightened you. Realized the shadow probably looked insane after I walked up."

"Did you need to see the cherries or….?"

"Oh, no. Thanks. I'm actually a vendor here. I have to go to another event and haven't had any luck selling this guy. Would you like it?"

My eyes flicked to Geri and back to him. "Ugh, I don't really need a balloon at the moment."

"Oh, no, no," he said, laughing. "I want to give it to you. As a gift. Didn't think a pretty woman like you would mind taking Teddy home with you."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "Well, if he needs a place to stay, I may have a spare room he can use."

The man laughed. "Thank you. I'm David, by the way. He's Theodore."

I took his outstretched hand and shook it. "I'm Liv, this is Geri."

"Theodore is super formal, no?"

"Look at his suit! He's a classy guy. Here, let me tie a weight to this," he said, pulling a flat white plastic circle from his pocket and knotting the string to it. He handed it to me, and it was heavier than I had imagined.

"Wow, some heft," I said, internally rolling my eyes at my dumb comment.

"So he won't go anywhere. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have about fifteen ten-year-olds waiting for me at the park," he said, catching himself. "For a party, just for the record."

I chuckled. "I assumed."

"Busy, the balloon racket?" Geri pried.

"Growing, or I guess, inflating might be a better word for it." I laughed and gave balloon boy a second glance. Not too shabby. "I'm getting into kids' birthday parties now," David said. "Kids love balloons. Have meetings all day, actually. But I'm around the market most weekends. Just look for the guy with the balloons."

"How do you know I'm not friendly with several balloon guys?"

"I'm willing to take the risk," he said before bidding us goodbye and taking off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Geri elbowed my ribs. "Dude, what the heck? How did you not get any contact information?"

"He wasn't hitting on me," I said, the truth ricocheting off Geri's shocked face and hitting my own. "Oh my God, he was. How am I this oblivious?"

"Maybe the farmer's market is haunted, too?"

I rolled my eyes at her, and she laughed. "Well, at least we now have two reasons to come here next weekend, right?"

"Right."

"You still down for dinner tonight? Stick around afterward, and we'll wait for something spooky to happen."

"Tell you what, if something weird happens, I'll buy the next round of farmer's market rabbit food."

"Deal."

"Girls," the gravelly voiced seller said, "if you're not buying anything else, do you mind scooting aside and movin' that balloon? People come to ogle my cherries, not yours, huh? 'Perciate it."

Later, when I got home, I placed the Theodore in my living room window. Maybe any potential robbers would think twice if they knew I had a dapper bear guarding my place. Granted, there wasn't much to my place - a mostly empty shotgun-style house with two bedrooms, one bath, and a galley kitchen - but it was what I needed. I worked from home, and this afforded me a designated workspace separate from my home area. Once I was off the clock, the office stayed dark.

The neighborhood was a little chaotic, but the place was evolving, and I had friendly neighbors. We kept watch on one another. I was fine keeping my screen door open during the day, despite the area’s grim reputation.

There was a charm to the neighborhood. It just required you to look with the right kinda eyes. Was that belief based more on vibes than anything tangible? Of course. But my glass was always half-full, and I trusted that in a year this would be the hot place. I was riding on top of a wave that had yet to break.

Geri came over at around four, and we popped a bottle of wine and gossiped about nonsense as I cooked dinner. Naturally, the conversation switched to the ghostly encounters I'd had here. Geri, as before, remained resolute that it was bunk.

"What has been the scariest thing that's happened so far?"

"Hmm," I said, slicing carrots. "Windows opening and closing by themselves. When one suddenly slams, yeesh. I've heard footsteps in the hall and the attic, too."

"Pretty tame by haunting standards."

"Oh, and I swear I've heard mumbling in the crawlspace. Scared the shit out of me so bad, I worked in the library instead."

"Okay, the crawl...

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