I could never convince her that I wasn't a brute, and I hated her for it. Today when I saw her, she was bent over a stick and was being helped into a car by her family. The occasion did not warrant me to go and introduce myself. I doubted if she would even remember me. Later in the day, I had a thought: She used to call me a brute. And now she looked like a chimpanzee herself with the way she stooped and walked. I am ashamed of this thought that found its way into me. Perhaps we are darker than we would like to accept.
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