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The Redhead Chronicles
I tried something new. Actually it was by mistake. The box said Dark Auburn; it turned my hair the color of a stop sign! People treat redheads different than they do blondes or brunettes.
My uncle, well, not really an uncle, but we call him that, is in his 70s. He’s a sharp old coot. When he was young he was a boxer (not like the homely ones we have now, more a beauty boxer) and I saw a picture of him once where he was holding onto a rail with one hand and his body was jutting off into space. This man of all seasons looked at my hair and said, “Rebecca, when I owned three sailboats in preCastro Cuba, if a redheaded woman walked onto the pier, the boats wouldn’t sail.” “For real?” “Oh, yes. The Cubans thought a redhead was very dangerous, probably still do.”
Z my friend, a wise man, a poet says that Lilith, the true mother of us all, the Cabbalan mother, was a green-eyed redhead. He thinks a woman with those two features is the most powerful woman on earth.
Stephen says, a redhead sets you on fire, demolishes you to ashes, and you walk away mumbling, “Thank you.”
That’s my collection in three days. Anyone else have any redhead stories?
I no longer have red hair.
