That’s when the creepy old white dude called me a towel head to my face, and asked me if my hair was nappy under my Hijab. Oh, and then Fergus laid ... hand on my shoulder. When he did that, I lost it. I didn’t even think about it. I simply reacted. Translation? I slapped the hell out of Fergus, and the old white bozo stopped smirking, and pressed his hand against his reddening face. There was surprise and anger on his face. I looked at him with haughtiness and defiance, and then walked away. The. If the object wasn't flammable, it went in the dumpster.Later that week, I mailed the newspaper article along with the bonfire pictures to Judith's office. I wrote on the envelope, "To be opened by addressee only."A week later I got a text message, "I'm sorry" was all it said. I guess someone at her office opened the envelope for her.I hoped it spoiled her honeymoon for a couple of days. I know it was a petty wish, but damn it I was still hurting. The bonfire really hadn't helped.The fall. More

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