
Caleb Crain Reads “Easter”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
Do You Want Me to Stop, Daddy?
Granddad jay declared. Do you want me to stop, daddy? The car coughed as it settled into a parking space in a roadside mall. Their mother asked, we can get out and walk around. Eleanor said they wanted the smoking section. It was a chinese restaurant,. When a waitress brought tea, alice took charge of pouring it into the little, thick walled porcelain cups. She pulled the paper packets out of the dispenser and sorted them by brand. Drawers and drawers in the house were still full of the little blue rectangles.
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