“I am Alice,” she responded. The voices ignored her mumblings and fixed their eyes on her paleness. Alice attempted to question the crowd but they all turned their backs and marched on. “I
“I am Alice,” she kept repeating, begging for their acknowledgment. Alice
Alice heard a rumbling from within the center of the crowd, and she listened to the hum of the baritones and deep basses. A force of water landed on the crowd and Alice listened as batons descended. She scampered, like the others for shelter and found restrooms which had signs which read “White” and “Colored.” Alice turned the doorknob of the first door and watched as it fell slowly against the wall. She stood carefully in the doorway of the dark bathroom, waiting to see what or who would appear.
As she kept moving, she noticed the floor changing beneath her. She was now traipsing across the hardwood floors of an urban apartment.
“Alice! Is that you?”
“What took you so long?”
Before Alice realized, they were on the corner of 42nd Street. They both grabbed placards and joined in the chants. People gathered all around the crowd of women, scoffing and laughing in their faces. Men turned their backs and some whistled, mockingly to the girls. Alice’s eyes met with a male onlooker, who mouthed “dyke” to her. She
She walked fearfully up to the man and grimaced then said, “Would “Would we sound better if we were men?” Her
Her female lover grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her back in the crowd.