The house sat high enough above La Jolla Cove that its upstairs windows caught the last light of sunset long after the sidewalks below had fallen into shadow.
During the day, nobody noticed it.
At night, everybody did.
The Window
Nina worked late at a small office near the village. Most nights she walked to her car around one in the morning.
That was how she noticed the light.
At exactly 1:17 a.m., an upstairs window in the old house flickered on.
Warm yellow light.
One room.
No other lights anywhere in the house.
At 1:24, it went dark.
The same thing happened the next night.
And the next.
The Empty House
Nina eventually asked a nearby security guard about it.
He told her the house was vacant.
Had been for years.
The owners lived somewhere else. The utilities were supposedly shut off.
Nina laughed.
The guard did not.
“Don’t watch it too long,” he said.
The Woman in the Glass
Of course Nina watched it too long.
At 1:17 the following night, the light came on.
At first the room looked empty.
Then a woman stepped into the window.
She wore a white nightgown. Her hair hung past her shoulders.
She stood perfectly still, facing the ocean.
Nina could not see her face.
At 1:24, the room went dark.
The woman did not move first.
Seven Minutes
After that, Nina began timing it.
Every night: seven minutes.
Sometimes the woman stood at the window.
Sometimes she sat in a chair.
Once, Nina saw another figure standing behind her.
The second figure was much taller.
It never moved.
The Night the Window Opened
Weeks passed.
Then, at 1:21 one morning, the upstairs window slowly opened.
Nina froze on the sidewalk.
The woman leaned forward.
Even from across the street, Nina could tell she was staring directly at her.
Then the woman raised one hand and pointed down toward the cove.
Nina followed the gesture.
At the base of the bluff, where the water met the rocks, someone was standing in the surf.
White nightgown.
Long dark hair.
Two Women
Nina looked back at the house.
The woman was still in the upstairs window.
She looked back at the water.
The second woman was still standing below.
Then both women lifted one hand.
And waved.
The New Rule
Nina stopped parking near the cove after that.
She changed jobs a few months later.
But locals who are out late sometimes still notice the upstairs light at 1:17.
It stays on for seven minutes.
And if the window opens, people who know the story do not look toward the water.
This story is fiction. The setting is real; the haunting is ours. Browse the full collection at Yawnder Night Stories.