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 Hanif Koreshi read his story,

She Said, from the July 22nd, 2019 issue of the magazine.

Koreshi is the author of numerous plays, screenplays, and novels,

including The Buddha of Suburbia, Intimacy, The Last Word, and Nothing.

A new collection of fiction and essays, What Happened, will be published in October.

Now here's Hanif Koreshi.

She said, he said.

So Sheila was walking in the park when she saw Mateo and his male assistant sitting on a bench.

As she approached them, she noticed Matteo was dishevelled in his black suit.

In fact, he was very drunk, which was unusual for him at that time of day, late afternoon.

She greeted him, kissing him on both cheeks, and he asked if she was asleep with him.

Why hadn't they slept together, he went on. They could do it right now, at his place, if she had time.

He'd always found her sexy, but had been too nervous to mention it.

They had known each other for at least 18 years, but he had never spoken to her in this way.

She was surprised and tried to seem amused. She'd always liked him.

Clever, witty, Mateo worked with her husband, Len.

His wife, Marcy, was a confidant.

They'd all gone to the coast together.

The next morning she saw Mateo again in the supermarket. Not with his assistant and not drunk,

he came right over and repeated his remarks in almost the same words, adding that Susheila had been

...