"Chinese, Japanese, money for the poor please…"
The children in the playground pulled their eyes skew and in unison, they chanted the words. They didn't know what it meant or who they had learnt it from, but it had a nice sound to it when escaping their young mouths and tongues.
It was a cold day and sky took on a cobalt blue colour as the three boys sat in halved tyre swings and swayed to and fro.
There had been rumour, and their mother's whispered about it. Their voices, though soft, carried and the children might sit in their sandpits or at the jungle-jims, straining their ears to hear mothers' words.
"She brought flowers -- "
"Red and poisonous --"
"Just like her tongue…"
"Red rose stain isn't the only blemish marking her hands --"
Pretty with sherry coloured eyes – she was perhaps just 18 without a smile in sight but the skin under her eyes was discoloured and her hands shook. Under her fingernails and staining her fingers, was always a reddish colour.
As time passed, sherry-eyes