Yes I am actually working on this one.  Thanks to the convoluted way my brain works I have started a new ghost story.  This time it is from back home.  Not that I plan on actually naming places but that tale is becoming mixed up with my actual family, so it is both fun and scary for me to write.  Here is the first bit of it.


Under the Black Bridge

A Death Walks Through short story

by Lisa Williamson


“Sometimes legends spring from the smallest of things.  Children’s laughter is not something that normally one would associate with darkness but under the Black Bridge late at night can be heard the laughter of little children.  No child has been found when concerned adults go out to look but what they find, now that is a different story.”

“But I was there you know?  The day the train derailed over the River.  The passengers screaming as the water rushed in and it was a mad house.  Some of us dove into the river to try and save as many as we could.  Wasn’t the best idea being how strong the currents are in the river but they were dying you know?”

The shadowy man sitting across the clearing nodded as if he understood.  The end of his cigarette glowed in the gloom.

“There was only so much we could do but we did it.  After all that was the job.  To aid and protect.  We all take that vow when we put on the badge.”

“But they don’t tell you how to deal with it when you can’t do they Frank?”  The man’s voice was hallow but deep, understanding.

The tall blonde police officer shook his head looking out over the water toward the two black and cracked pillars.  “No they don’t.  That day was so hard on the men who could not pull out every body living.  To see those little ones so limp…” Frank’s voice broke then and his broad shoulders slumped.  “I tried, I did but they were gone before I found them in the last car.  Six of them all trapped in the wreckage.”

“There was nothing you could do, officer.  They did not suffer you know?”

Blue eyes flashed with anger as Frank turned back toward the other man in the clearing.  “How do you know that!  How do you know they weren’t afraid, that they didn’t gasp out their last breaths praying for me to come and save them?”

The shadow tipped back his hat and black eyes gleamed out.  “I know Frank, I know.”


This is the first time I have put someone in my family actually into a story.  I never got to meet my granfather, he died when my mom was a teenager but I know a few things about him.  I like to think that he was a big and sweet man.