This is the writer's voice, new fiction from The New Yorker.

I'm Deborah Treesman, fiction editor at The New Yorker.

On this episode of the writer's voice, we'll hear Camille Bordas read her story,

The State of Nature, from the April 9th, 2018 issue of the magazine.

Bordas has published two novels in France,

Létrez de Césaire and Partie Comune.

Her first novel in English,

How to Behave in a Crowd, was published last year.

Now here's Camille Bordas.

The State of Nature.

I slept through the burglary.

I considered lying about this to the cops when I went to report it, but you don't lie to the police.

It's like doctors. They can't help you if you lie to them.

I mean, I don't always tell my doctor the whole truth, but that's because my doctor happens to be an old friend.

Some things are just too embarrassing to tell your friends.

One cop asked if I was unemployed since I had been taking a nap on a Thursday morning.

I'm an ophthalmologist, I said. My schedule varies a lot. She looked at my glasses suspiciously,

as if they contradicted what I just told her, as if an ophthalmologist were required to have perfect vision.

I wear contacts when I work because patients tend to feel the same way.

I told her everything that had been stolen. Most of my living room and a bit of the kitchen were gone,

laptop and flat screen, of course,

sound system, but also the Eames chair, the four Hans-Wagner-Wishburn dining chairs,

...