She was carefree. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him. Her efforts were vain. " That satisfied something of her undefined hunger. “Yeah. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. She was greatly heartened by doing this.
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