The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker cover image

T. Coraghessan Boyle Reads “The End Is Only a Beginning”

The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker

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Mirey and May Carrey

Mirey was waiting for him in the arrivals hall. She asked if he'd slept on the plane, and lying because it seemed appropriate,. He told her that he had. Then she said: I thought it might be relaxing for you if we enjoyed some lunch. Lunch wasn't the problem, nor was his exhaustion. The main thing they had in common, aside from the language, May was fluent in French. They were dedicated drinkers, daytime drinkers. After the second bottle of bubbly, they had a third. And then after their long, minus three kiss goodbyes, and his taxi had deposited him back at the hotel. It was five p.m., too early to

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