
Joan Silber Reads “Evolution”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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Brudy and I Slept on the Strip Mole
Brodie and Brudy slept on plank of wood like a passenger on a boat. Brodie solved this for us one night somewhere in missouri by deciding we could camp out behind a giant bush at the end of a parking lot. My battered sell slept on bertie's chest on the way to oklahoma. The next day, we had a creepy driver who told dirty jokes and laughed at the punch lines, it was her pussy all along. i took a rapturous shower for so long that the hot water ran out on brodie, who had no interest in making love that night. And then brudie had u hiclaps around the strip mole to keep us
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