Junior Vocab
Sunday Morning on the Terrace
cloths to the terrace. They flapped over her arm—soft towels, Appa’s striped shirt, Paati’s flowered saree.Every Sunday morning, Amma carried a big basket of
cloths were cold and heavy.“Come help,” she called to Meera. Meera wrinkled her nose. The wet
The Windy Terrace
On the terrace, the wind was strong. A bedsheet ballooned like a fat white cloud. One slippery cloth fell on Meera’s head. She jumped. “Yuck! It’s dripping on me!”
Amma laughed. “Hold it tight, little cloud-catcher.”
Meera held the cloths with both hands. She felt the water trickle down her arms, then the sun warming her skin. Slowly, she pinned each cloth to the line—blue, yellow, green.
Soon the terrace became a sky of flying clothsclothsproudly. “Our are dancing, Amma.”. Meera smiled