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He laughed again when I warned him not to post it on Facebook. I'll hunt you down, I said, one of the phrases I had used often in my seven years as a teacher, four of them here in Bulgaria, a career whose end we were celebrating that night. He held up his hands, smiling broadly. Don't worry, he said, I won't, I just want to remember this forever.
--From "An Evening Out," a short story by Garth Greenwell, The New Yorker (August 21, 2017), pp. 62-69.
Oghi opened his eyes to a faint glimpse of white clothing. He heard his name: "Oghi. Oghi." The voice was soft, kind. Eight days had passed since his emergency surgery, eight days during which he had slipped in and out of consciousness.
--From "Caring for Plants," a short story by Hye-young Pyun, translated from the Korean by Sora Kim-Russell, The New Yorker (July 10 & 17, 2017), pp. 64-71.
His paintings were small, suggestions
of houses, pinpricks of green for trees.
--From "A Marriage," a poem by Julie Bruck, The New Yorker (November 7, 2011), p. 78.
'I gather you're my wife,' said the man in the waiting room. 'I don't think I've had the pleasure. Might one know your name?'
--From "The Greening of Mrs Donaldson," the first of two stories in a little book called Smut by English dramatist Alan Bennett. The book, originally published in Great Britain by Faber and Faber Ltd and Profile Books Ltd, was published in the United States by Picador (2012). The story "The Greening of Mrs Donaldson" was originally published in the London Review of Books (2010).
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Short fiction by Garth Greenwell, Hye-young Pyun, and Alan Bennett and a poem by Julie Bruck
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