The Enduring Mystery of Jack the Ripper

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a rose by many other names

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her name was probably not rose. she had changed her name so many times over the many years that i knew her that i could not recall her original name or if i had ever known it. i had known her since i was a kid on the rez. she was older. enough for me to see her as an adult.  and almost every time I ran into her she was going by a different name. rose was just the first one i remember hearing. she wasn’t beautiful. her presence didn’t carry the weight that beautiful people do when you’re young. i once heard a guy her own age refer to her as pig face and that was pretty close to the truth. i did not feel the sadness that i do now on reflection that simply because she had not been born the lucky winner of the lottery of beauty that she was so easily dismissed, not just by others, but by me. she wasn’t particularly kind. but then I doubt that she was dealt much kindness in her life. she wasn’t funny or charming or crazy enough to be frightening. she was just this older gir...
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