Claire Keegan Reads “So Late in the Day”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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The Buss Stops at Arklow
The rest of the week end went remarkably well. The time between them grew sweet again, perhaps even a little sweeter than it had ever been. A big man in work clothes and wellington's was sitting on the wall outside the news agent's licking an ice cream cone at 99. kal wondered if this wasn't the same man who told sabine that she could gather the mushrooms off his fields.
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