|
acf02dc
|
"Would you like to come in?" I said. My hands were sweaty. Inside my chest an ocean heaved and crashed and heaved again. "I would," he said. I saw his Adam's apple jerk as he swallowed. "Thank you." I was distracted by that thank you. We had moved past the language of formality long ago. It was strange to relearn it with each other."
|
|
fiction
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
immigrant-fiction
indian-authors
love-mothers-and-daughters
indian
women-s-fiction
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |