The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Ben Lerner Reads John Berger

The New Yorker: Fiction

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How Do You Spell Hyacinth?

Tyler lived in two rented rooms on the ground floor of a large house with a rose garden. He was allowed to leave his car in the drive, but only in one place by the kitchen door where the dust bins were. Tyler's two rented rooms smelled like the green hut of his cigarettes. On the windows cells of the two rooms he grew flowers and wooden boxes. They were arranged on either side of the clock like letters in their envelopes. The smallest sign of slackness would be punished by a wrap over the knuckles with a knotted ubranch that hung on a hook beside the cupboard where he kept exercise books.

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