Her hand was stretched out, pointing directly at my friend. The bus was a bit crowded she was seated on her mother’s lap. Watching with intrigue and excitement, I guess.
“мама! мама! , она черная?” Asked the little Russian girl . ‘Mum! Mum! Is she black?’
Her mum, clearly amused, shifted her closer into her arms and said yes, it was more of us being a spectacle, a live, first hand encounter of a body wrapped in skin that had not been darkened by the sun but by melanin count.
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