Gifted
The pre-monsoon relief brings the woollens out.
"Where'd you get the sweater from?", Lucky Cash asks. "Gift", D replies and immediately boards a train of thought. He hears her say "Ah, gift items" in an affected local accent which may as well have been an anouncer at the railway station.
He thinks of the time he received the sweater at the Lakeside Cafe. Inanities for conversation, steering away from anything of consequence. And how they haven't called or emailed each other since.
D thinks of her from halfway across the world whenever he digs it out of his closet. It's his favourite sweater.