
T. Coraghessan Boyle Reads “Princess”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
The Gardener, the Gardener's Alias
Dawn found herself in a public park with no way of contacting Luther. She didn't want to get high, but the first hit made her feel invincible. There was only one bench and a bum who looked like he wasn't about to keep his promise. A little girl had been stuffed inside a plastic trash bag under some bushes. Dawn could have predicted it: Tanya never showed up for her court date.
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