Rachel Kushner Reads “A King Alone”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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The Man's Mouth Moved Like a Dancer
A man hobbled up to the driver's side window. Where had he come from? Who knew? People seemed to pop up on a roadside from out of nowhere. George was 60, but felt undeterred in his habits and pursuits. Can you take me to the other side of the river? Just up to river bar. It's close.
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