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"But Black people, all people, get meaner and meaner the further down the color line you trip. Should you be near white, passing, tragically passing, light-skinned, urine-colored, summer red, winter red, brown-skinned with a yellow shining/hollering beneath, God bless you.
Timmy, though, was so Black she was blue. Piano-colored, at least. Coming up on midnight, minimum. And somehow, Mr. Gregory Smith, way back in ’82, figured he could love her."

Call on Mercy and a Yellow Cab, a novel.

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