Genus : a really short story by jaime
“Where ya goin’, boy?” he heard again in that long, sarcastic whine that always placed a hard emphasis on that dirty word, “boy”. But that is what he was.
No matter what any of the others said, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he was just that. A boy. And as hard as it was, he had to live with that realization.
He pretended not to hear it. But he did.He tried to force the sickening thought from his larger brain with a stick. But he couldn’t. He knew what he was. And if that meant being a boy, then so be it.
He shrugged his bald shoulders and resumed picking the fleas from his stepsister’s thick, matted down, trying never again to be reminded that he was not like the others in that tree. At least for an hour or so.
The end.
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