Thirty paces. That's when the whispering started.
Then came the voice. His mother's voice. goedam 1
The figure tilted its head. Then it raised one long, gray finger to where its mouth should have been. Thirty paces
Jae-ho knew the rules. He had grown up hearing them from his grandmother: Don't count the cracks in the pavement. Don't look directly into the windows. And never, ever turn around if you hear someone call your name twice. goedam 1
"Jae-ho-yah. Turn around. Come home."
Twenty paces. A child's shoe lay upturned in a puddle that hadn't been there a second ago. It was a small white sneaker, impossibly clean. He didn't touch it. He remembered his grandmother's warning about items left as offerings.