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Part 1



Genecia, was an angry girl. Actually, Genecia was always angry, 24/7, 365 days a year. This was even reinforced by her own mother, who told her often enough
Genecia, you were born angry. Well, if her mother was walking in her shoes just now, she would be angry. She had got the bus into town to check out a restaurant that was supposed to be opening. The sign on the window said differently. Due to unforeseen circumstances. It was always something, Genecia, thought to herself. When the hell was she going to get a break. She tried a few other places, but no luck. She made her way back to catch the bus. The bus ran straight past her. If Genecia, was angry then, she was bloody apoplectic now. He drove by her cos she was black, the stinking white racist bastard. She started walking the five miles home.


John admired himself in the mirror, the gleaming black uniform just stood out, the shiny buttons, the hat that made him feel ten feet tall. He had never worn it outside, but what the hell, he lived in the middle of nowhere, who would know.


Genecia, had managed a mile before her heel broke off.

Jesus, give me a break. She noticed a track leading off the main road. Maybe this could take a few miles off her journey. What the hell. She took her shoes off and began to walk barefoot.


John felt the sun in his eyes, his tunic buttons glistened in the midday sun. Looking down at his jackboots, gleaming from the hours he had spent polishing them. God, it was good to be alive.


Genecia, turned the corner only to be confronted by the black uniform almost upon her. She threw all five feet three inches of herself on top of him.

John was totally taken off guard thinking a wild cat was attacking him, then realising it was a girl. Being six foot four and weighing two hundred and sixty pounds slightly helped as he tried to restrain her. What the hell do you think you’re doing.

I’m attacking a giant lump in a Gestapo uniform, what do you think I’m doing.

It’s an SS uniform, and you’ve bloody ruined it.

Well, excuse me for dirtying your pretty uniform, but I could have sworn this was America.

It is America, and you’re on the part I own.

Typical white boy retort. Maybe I missed the no blacks' entry sign.

What are you doing here, anyhow?

I’m taking a shortcut home, what do you think I’m doing.

You do know mountain climbing is difficult to do in bare feet.

What the hell are you on about.

Let me explain it to you in simple terms. I assume you think you’re taking a shortcut to Bakers Town, which in theory would be correct if there wasn’t a bloody great mountain blocking your route.

Are you saying I’m stupid, cos if I think that’s what you're saying, I’m going to whip your ass?

Jesus, you are one angry woman.

I swear to god, do not call me angry, I am not angry.

Okay, miss not so angry, if you turn around, Bakers town is seven miles that away.

Right, little Hitler, I’ll get off your precious land then.

John watched her walk off, then realised how he must have looked marching towards her. He shouted back to her. Hey, do you want to use the phone and freshen up.

Who stays in your house, the Ku Klux Klan.

If it was, they’d be running for the hills by now

Will you be taking the uniform off?

Yes, I’ll be taking the uniform off.

You won't molest me.

No, I value my life too much.

Genecia, thought for a while. She was really done in, and the thought of walking home just wasn’t a comforting one. I could do with a coffee.

Well, I think that’s the least I can do for you, follow me.

Genecia, followed behind, realising the absurdity of it all. She envisaged writing in her diary. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. The house was stunning, unlike any farmhouse she had ever seen. It just looked regal in the land of rough. One part of her just wanted to cry. She had never known luxury and maybe resented the fact. But she had her pride, it had taken her this far in life.
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