
Douglas Stuart Reads “The Englishman”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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I Downed the Whisky and You
Simon had cheated with a young man he worked with. They'd met up two or three times a week for a year and a half. He would have left me eventually if he hadn't grown so accustomed to comfort of our lives, or perhaps i would never have known william raked his fingers through his hair. I made the mistake of wandering around leicester square as if there were something to see. All the todusty things were spoiled by pan handlers. And every time i stopped, a young, crusty approached me for money. And i didn't know how to say no.
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