(tellmeifishouldstop) Then it’s just something to bind up my chest, a pinstriped suit with the widest lapels ill-gotten gains can buy, a narrow tie with a colorful zing, and a little friend in my pocket, just big enough so the boys can see it’s there
The hair, I was a little sad to see go—that was the one thing I had over all the other little Jewish girls, long blonde goyem locks like a shiksa movie star—but it turns out I look just as good in a fedora as Dad. Makes our eyes dark and fiery.
See, we female Jews have big, loud voices that originate in the nose. Good for calling your eight kids to dinner, but not for dealing with bootleggers. Had to learn to be quiet and dark like dad, like the underbelly of this city at night.
if you write an entire novel in tumblr replies I am going to piss myself
The body ain’t the hard part. I was always mannish, big square shoulders, my father’s nose, as well as his gait, confident and strong. Skipped pretty young thing and went right to matron, Mama always said. Nah, the hard part’s the voice.
STOP BEING WONDERFUL AND CREATING STORY OUT OF THIN AIR ALL THE TIME