
Madeleine Thien Reads “Lu, Reshaping”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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I Hate People, You Tell Me?
All my life i've wanted to change shapes, change skins. That was my dream when i was your age. But then i got married and had you. So thanks a lot. Lu felt as though some one had punched her in the chest. A seaplane was descending toward berard inlet, seeming to accelerate even as it slowed. This view from the 20 seventh floor could hardly be believed. The plane's nose was tilted up very slightly, as if it disliked getting its face wet. Down it went, hurrying to meet the water. As unexpectedly as the panic had arrived, it fled. She breathed, breathed again, without pain, neither wax nor string, no ex nation
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