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 Sally Rooney read her story, Color and Light,

from the March 18th, 2019 issue of the magazine. Rune is the author of two novels,

Conversations with Friends and Normal People, which was published last year and won the Costa

Book Award. Now here's Sally Rooney. Color and Light. The first time he sees her, she's getting into his brother's car.

He's sitting in the backseat, and she gets into the front, closing the passenger door behind her.

Then she notices him.

She cranes around, eyebrows raised, and then turns back to Declan and says,

Who's this? That's Aiden, Declan says, my brother. I didn't know you had a brother, she says mildly.

She turns around again, as if accepting the inevitability of having to speak to him. Old or younger,

she asks. Me, Aidan says,

younger. The interior of the car is dark, and she narrows her eyes before concluding,

You look it. He's only a year younger, Declan says. The woman has turned away now to roll down her window.

She has to wind it down using the small lever on the door.

Your parents were busy, she remarks. How many others are there? Only us, Declan says. They got it all

out of the way quickly then, she says, sensible. Declan pulls out of the parking space and back

onto the main road. Cool night air floods through the open window. The woman is lighting a cigarette.

Aidan can see only the back of her head

and her left arm, elbow angled.

I'll drop this lad home and then we'll go for a spin, Declan says.

Sounds divine, the woman says.

...