Datlow, Ellen (ed) - Screams from the Dark / Датлоу, Эллен (ред) - Крики из тьмы [2022, epub, ENG]

You Have What I Need short story by Ian Rogers The Midway short story by Fran Wilde Wet Red Grin short story by Gemma Files The Virgin Jimmy Peck short story by Daryl Gregory The Ghost of a Flea short story by Priya Sharma The Atrocity Exhibitionists short story by Brian Hodge 'The Father of Modern Gynecology': J. Marion Syms, M.D. (1813-1883) short story by Joyce Carol Oates Here Comes Your Man short story by Indrapramit Das Siolaigh short story by Siobhan Carroll What Is Love But the Quiet Moments After Dinner? short story by Richard Kadrey The Island short story by Norman Partridge Flaming Teeth short story by Garry Kilworth Strandling short story by Caitlín R. Kiernan The Special One short story by Chikodili Emelumadu Devil short story by Glen Hirshberg Crick Crack Rattle Tap short story by A. C. Wise Children of the Night short story by Stephen Graham Jones The Smell of Waiting short story by Kaaron Warren Now Voyager short story by Livia Llewellyn The Last Drop short story by Carole Johnstone Three Mothers Mountain short story by Nathan Ballingrud Widow-Light short story by Margo Lanagan Sweet Potato short story by Joe R. Lansdale Knock, Knock short story by Brian Evenson What Is Meat with No God? short story by Cassandra Khaw Bitten by Himself short story by Laird Barron Burial short story by Kristi DeMeester Beautiful Dreamer short story by Jeffrey Ford Blodsuger short story by John Langan

A soul may find its way back from the corners of darkness by becoming part of a common thing. —From Everyday Items of Darkness

There’s only so much a lonely man can do, so much TV that can be watched, books that can be read, so many moments of masturbation, before buying a rototiller and gardening seems a realistic consideration. Though he had a good retirement plan, Tyler hadn’t expected his job to end so abruptly, the boss having gone to prison for ass-fondling and grubbing money from the public trust. But there it was. She went and the business went, and now here he was, out in the wilds of unemployment, living off his considerable savings (thank goodness), and submerged way down deep in the cold-ass nothing. Dreaming for a while was so fine. No alarm clock, living in pajamas. What he liked best, at first, was that things that seemed silly in real life seemed fine in the dream world. He could be an old-fashioned hero in his dreams. Much younger, washboard abs, a baseball-bat dick, and balls like grapefruits. Carrying a sword, brave and relentless, six foot five and forever young. And then, one night, down in a dream, there was a soundless shift. . . .