[Fiction] A couple prepares for another predictable evening with old friends:

Later, he came out of the bathroom just as the toilet was completing its roar. She was no longer in the kitchen. He took another cheese and cracker. He walked past the dressed table to the living room. She sat on the sofa reading the same magazine he had been reading. He stood in the middle of the room and raised his hands. ‘Where are they?’

‘If there’s one thing that’s predictable,’ she said.

‘But it’s almost forty-five minutes.’

‘They’ll be eating some very cold appetizers.’

“The Dinner Party.” — Joshua Ferris, The New Yorker, 2008

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