3min chapter

The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Orhan Pamuk Reads Jorge Luis Borges

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

The Rose of Sharon

El buhari, as soon as the bricklayers had finished, installed himself in the centre of labyrinth. At times, alibi feared that sa had caught up with the king and killed him. Pressed together with an ancient fear, it was customary for ships from eastern ports bound for cardiff or bristol to anchor in the little bay. It was no secret that these vessels carried cargoes of contraband. And if off alcohol or of forbidden ivories, why not off dead man as well? Some three years after the house was finished, the rose of sharon anchored one october morning just under the bluffs. Its crew was made up of arabs and alliance.

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