I’ve been reflecting back on when my life was simpler. I’m talking about those lazy summers I used to spend at my family’s cabin on Camano Island. I look back fondly at afternoons spent riding my bike, swimming in the bay or having sex with the ghosts in the abandoned lighthouse. Those were the days!

I didn’t have to worry about emails or push notifications. I was more concerned with catching the ice cream truck in time to buy the last fudgecicle. Or answering the erotic call of the shadow-walkers in that old lighthouse. I’d wile away the hours flipping through my well-worn copy of The Hobbit, or going balls deep in some dark visitor from beyond the grave.

I learned so much in those summers. How to catch a Dungeoness crab with my bare hands. How to pleasure the spirit of a depression-era lighthouse keeper. How to eat an Otter Pop without getting my fingers sticky. But most importantly, I learned not to tell anyone about the ghosts I was having sex with. It’s a lesson I still carry with me.

One day my brother and I leaned against the driftwood fort we’d built and watched the sun slip below the horizon. He skipped a stone–eight perfect bounces–then turned to me and smiled. We didn’t have to say anything to know that we’d remember this forever. Then I told him I was going for a walk and disappeared to the lighthouse for three days–three days I spent having sex with all the ghosts I could handle. Which was a lot!

Nowadays the world moves too fast. It seems there are hardly enough hours in the day to get my errands done, let alone be used by the undead as a sexual plaything! Sometimes I’ll stare at my coworkers during our dull staff meetings and wonder, “Do any of these people even know how to have sex with ghosts? If not, would they want me to show them how? I bet Brian would. Brian seems down.”

My parents have since sold our island cabin. The mortgage was too much, and also they discovered a diary of mine with descriptions of all the ghost sex, which they found pretty upsetting. But I have the memories. To this day, any time I sip a cool glass of lemonade I remember what it felt like to be young, carefree and inside of a ghost. In a sex way.


The Higgs Weldon is an online humor magazine with funny articles, cartoons, and one liners. It was founded in the Los Angeles stand-up comedy community, but takes submissions from everybody. Please read and enjoy our jokes!


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