Datlow, Ellen (ed) - Echoes / Датлоу, Эллен (ред) - Эхо [2019, epub, ENG]

Ice Cold Lemonade 25ȼ Haunted House Tour: 1 Per Person short fiction by Paul Tremblay Linger Longer short fiction by Vincent J. Masterson Whimper Beg short fiction by Lee Thomas The July Girls short fiction by Alison Littlewood About the O'Dells short fiction by Pat Cadigan A Hinterlands Haunting short story by Richard Kadrey The Number of Things You Remember short fiction by Miranda Siemienowicz Must Be This Tall to Ride short fiction by Seanan McGuire The Surviving Child novella by Joyce Carol Oates The Medium's End short story by Ford Madox Ford A Shade of Dusk short fiction by Indrapramit Das Icarus Rising short fiction by Richard Bowes The Puppet Motel short fiction by Gemma Files Air Valve Semilunar Astern short fiction by Nick Mamatas The Unwrapping short fiction by Terry Dowling The Upper Berth / Верхняя полка novelette by F. Marion Crawford A Burning Sword for Her Cradle short fiction by Aliette de Bodard Precipice short story by Dale Bailey The Shooter short fiction by M. Rickert The Tree of Self-Knowledge short fiction by Stephen Graham Jones The Other Woman short fiction by Alice Hoffman The Loneliness of Not Being Haunted short fiction by Bracken MacLeod Mee-Ow short fiction by Garth Nix Jasper Dodd's Handbook of Spirits and Manifestations short fiction by Nathan Ballingrud His Haunting short story by Brian Evenson The Jeweled Wren short fiction by Jeffrey Ford The Air, the Ocean, the Earth, the Deep short fiction by Siobhan Carroll The Ghost Sequences short fiction by A. C. Wise Deep, Fast, Green short fiction by Carole Johnstone Natalia, Queen of the Hungry Dogs novella by John Langan

Now Bao Ngoc has set her appointment with the witch at dawn—because it would make her leave the house in the dark, at a time when neither her sister nor her brother-in-law would be awake. Things, however, never work the way they’re supposed to. She’s made her morning worship at her ancestral altar, leaving oranges and apples for her parents’ spirits, mouthing the familiar litany beseeching them for good fortune, gritting her teeth against the agony in her chest. Now she’s rummaging in the kitchen for coconut water, opening the cupboard in the darkness. In the background, the familiar buzz of the fridge, a warbling Bao Ngoc keeps—with effort, with pain—from turning into the angry remonstrances of ghosts. The lights go on. They flood the room, harsh, unforgiving. “You’re up early,” Bao Chau says. She stands in the doorway, her white shift outlining the darkness of her skin, the round curves of her belly. . . .