The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

George Saunders Reads Claire Keegan

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

Sabine's Life in Wicklow

Sabine worked in Dublin City Centre for the Hugh Lane Gallery. She was renting a flat in Rathgar, which she shared with three younger women. They started going to the farmer's market together on Saturday mornings. Sabine made blackberry jam, mushroom soup and almost everything she brought home she cooked,. With a parent, light handedness and ease, with what Karl took to be loved. He looked at their empty glasses and replenished them and asked if they should marry.

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