A short story published in:
The New Orphic Review, Vol. 20, No.1 Spring 2017, pp. 32-40

The woman
“She ignored us and we took her for granted. No one spoke her nicknames aloud; the whole Vancouver neighbourhood avoided any talk.”

Who doesn’t fit in
“Her thin figure paced the sidewalks, always in white, often in a long dress and old-fashioned white gloves, a broad-brimmed summer hat, and even occasionally carrying a sort of parasol, as if today were a hundred years ago. The hat and umbrella hid her face, she never said hello . . . she avoided, to my knowledge, all contact . . .”

And the gardener
“. . . Until this morning when I saw her traipsing down the flagstones towards my door, head ducked, nodding at my garden flowers. And there on the sidewalk stood my unshaven, slovenly neighbour, Benny, holding out his cellphone, ready to frame a photo of her in my garden.”