
George Saunders Reads “Thursday”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
The End of Friendship
"I was in bed, in pain, in quite a lot of pain," he writes. "While looking for something, something dear to me, I found it." A note on a purple piece of stationery which he'd been hanging on to for many years now,. from Clara. David's last apartment, the Lee Street dump, with its front gutter hanging down, still hanging down, was a place where he would die.
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