Some Things Just Don’t Change

As I passed through the living room
I glanced at the TV. The image was
of a rescue vehicle in a city hit
by the latest hurricane. The pass-
enger was gorgeous — a young-
ish, white woman dressed to the
hilt. She reminded me a bit of
Melania Trump or a wealthy,
Southern aristocrat. Not.
She was an old, black woman
in a plain-jane house dress
and a sad, anxious, distressed
look on her deeply lined face.
Some things just don’t change.

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