LIV. Riotous Colour

“I don’t think I've ever felt quite so conscious of my colour before,”

I tell the little Martian.

From my bright pink nail polish to my light green jumper. My too-bright laptop case with its swirling mandalas, and my tan skin, they all scream “I'm not from here, I'm the immigrant you claim has stolen your job, the ruffian trying to take up your space”

The streets of Dublin are uncomfortable today. The cold bites me , the North Face storefronts seem to taunt me. Even the flirty South African barista on down Westmoreland seems a little less enthused today.

I feel stranded and afraid

People seem to look at me funny.

“People always look at me funny.” Responds the little Martian with his purple spacesuit and yellow gumboots.