my face skin, with the continued medication, exposure to sunlight and ground-in stain, was what Negroes call a “pure brown” - a smooth dark color that made me look like millions of others. I noted, too, that my face had lost all animation. In repose, it had taken on the strained, disconsolate expression that is written on the countenance of so many Southern Negroes. My mind had become the same way, dozing empty for long periods.
