I love it when we get new fiction from T. Coraghessan Boyle. He just knows how to tell a story. Even if I ultimately don’t like the story itself, I always like how he tells it. I always feel pulled through it. Here is how “Princess” starts.

She tried the door. The door was unlocked. She went in.

The moment was layered and complex, almost like a fairy tale, but where were the three bears? Upstairs, barking. Did bears bark? No, but dogs did, and that was what was going on here, dogs barking and scrabbling with their black shiny toenails—pawnails?—at the closed door at the top of the stairway, the stairway that was carpeted and strewn with soft, welcoming shadows cast by various objects in the dimmered glow of the lamp behind the couch that was only ten feet from where she was standing. There were pillows on the couch, a whole flotilla of them, and there were two armchairs flanking it, a coffee table, bookshelves, the black nullity of a flat-screen TV affixed to the wall across from her. When she moved, and she moved only a foot or two into the room—edging, that was what she was doing, edging in—the screen gave back her reflection in a way that was too obscure to matter.

I know this is going up out of order, but if you’re interested in posting thoughts on this story, please always feel welcome!