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<blockquote data-quote="roon" data-source="post: 2470143" data-attributes="member: 846064">I am not sure what the setting is in this short story. Is it when her husband comes to talk to her ? Or when she goes to the dry cleaner ? Or what ? It&#039;s really confusing me!Thanks =]In the dark at night you came close and your voice was a whisperthough there is no one here to wake. “They said I could have thejob if I take off my turban and cut my hair short.” You did nothave to say it. I saw it in your face as you took off your new coatand galoshes. I heard their voices in my head as I looked at thesmall white envelopes I have left in the drawer, each full of onemore day’s precious dollars — the last of your savings and mydowry. Mentally, I converted dollars to rupees and thought howmany people in India each envelope could feed for a month....Today I took one of my wedding saris to the neighbourhooddry-cleaner and a woman with no eyebrows held it like a dishragas she asked me, “Is it a bed sheet?”“No,” I said.“Curtains?”“No.”I took the silk back to our basement apartment, tied my hairin a tight bun, washed the heavy folds in the metal bathtub, andhung it, gold threads glinting, on a drip-dry hanger.When I had finished, I spread a bed sheet on the floor of thebathroom, filled my arms with the turbans you’d worn last weekand knelt there surrounded by the empty soft hollows of scarlet,navy, earth brown, copper, saffron, mauve and bright parrotgreen. As I waited for the bathtub to fill with warm soapy water, Iunravelled each turban, each precise spiral you had wound roundyour head, and soon the room was full of soft streams of muslinthat had protected your long black hair.I placed each turban in turn on the bubbly surface and watchedthem grow dark and heavy, sinking slowly, softly into the warmth.and it goes on and on...</blockquote>

[QUOTE="roon, post: 2470143, member: 846064"] I am not sure what the setting is in this short story. Is it when her husband comes to talk to her ? Or when she goes to the dry cleaner ? Or what ? It's really confusing me! Thanks =] In the dark at night you came close and your voice was a whisper though there is no one here to wake. “They said I could have the job if I take off my turban and cut my hair short.” You did not have to say it. I saw it in your face as you took off your new coat and galoshes. I heard their voices in my head as I looked at the small white envelopes I have left in the drawer, each full of one more day’s precious dollars — the last of your savings and my dowry. Mentally, I converted dollars to rupees and thought how many people in India each envelope could feed for a month. ... Today I took one of my wedding saris to the neighbourhood dry-cleaner and a woman with no eyebrows held it like a dishrag as she asked me, “Is it a bed sheet?” “No,” I said. “Curtains?” “No.” I took the silk back to our basement apartment, tied my hair in a tight bun, washed the heavy folds in the metal bathtub, and hung it, gold threads glinting, on a drip-dry hanger. When I had finished, I spread a bed sheet on the floor of the bathroom, filled my arms with the turbans you’d worn last week and knelt there surrounded by the empty soft hollows of scarlet, navy, earth brown, copper, saffron, mauve and bright parrot green. As I waited for the bathtub to fill with warm soapy water, I unravelled each turban, each precise spiral you had wound round your head, and soon the room was full of soft streams of muslin that had protected your long black hair. I placed each turban in turn on the bubbly surface and watched them grow dark and heavy, sinking slowly, softly into the warmth. and it goes on and on... [/QUOTE]

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