The wig was my great Aunt’s idea. She was rich.
She was from the city. She lived
in the United States.
She purchased it and presented it to her like it was a brand
new car. It would fix everything.
As far as my Aunt was concerned, the wig was the missing
piece to a ‘normal’ life for her.
The adults chatted excitedly. There was a mission to
convince her of their mindset.
“OOOOHHHH! Look how beautiful you are?” She was taken to several mirrors to see her
beauty.
I watched carefully.
I was trying to see if their faces were sincere.
I could see her being swayed.
I saw her reach up and touch the hair that brushed her
shoulder.
I watched her look at her reflection. She liked it.
I remember thinking she looked like she was wearing a
wig. Period.
The next day, she wore that wig to school.
It was picture day.
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