This being so I never attempted to try and alter my hair or wear make-up as I considered it a waste of time. It was Valentine’s day in February 195... and Jack was boasting about receiving ten Valentine cards, and deriding me for not getting any. I took myself upstairs to mope on my own. After a few minutes lying on the bed I decided to have a bath. My parents were out of the house and so I took the chance without having to get it passed by mum not to use up all the hot water. Having a bath. From the top of his head to the privates below, colorless hairs armored his skin – for he’d been born white. Seventy years earlier, the neighbor women had laid him out on a new sheet and with the best kitchen towels, had washed away the birth blood. In another room, older women had wrapped the still body of his mother in a quilted blanket that had been sewn for Easter. As the new born child dried that hot evening, the Methodist ladies grew nervous at the sight of his head, a head covered in. More

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