This week’s New Yorker story (and next week’s too, since this is a double issue) is Mariana Enriquez’s “My Sad Dead,” translated by Megan McDowell. We’ve had a couple of Enriquez’s stories in the magazine before, and her two collections that have been translated into English — The Dangers of Smoking in Bed and Things We Lost in the Fire — were both well received. But Enriquez has also written a few novels; the first to appear in English — Our Share of Night — comes out this week! “My Sad Dead” is not an excerpt. Instead, we get what is billed as a classic ghost story for Valentine’s Day.

Here is how “My Sad Dead” begins:

First, I think I should describe the neighborhood. Because my house is in the neighborhood, and my mother is in the house, and you can’t understand one thing without the other, and you especially can’t understand why I don’t leave. Because I could leave. I could leave tomorrow.

I look forward to reading this. Please feel welcome to leave your thoughts below!