Never in a sari. On Sundays she’d always change first. Back from mass, she’d unwind the six yards of silk or chiffon, replacing it with her baggy black cotton tracksuit and her brown pumps. Even in those unflattering clothes, her black eyes and quiet grace shone through. Read more of The Gardener by Jocelyn Watson, The Asian Writer Short Story Prize 2013 Winner
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Amma was ritualistically watering her plants, which included fighting with pigeons and making small talk with squirrels. The rodent droppings never bothered her
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