Status Updates From Mothers and Other Strangers...

And though she hadn't seen Mae in ten years, she was still walking around in a world colored by Mae, as if her particular tint was too bright and vibrant to fully scrub off. Mae was that red sock that pinks all your whites, and though you put those whites through the machine again and again, trying to rid them of the rosy hue, they never return to their original shade.

Huh meant What is it like to be a man in the world whose ideas are alrways treated like treasures, who feels able to say anything about anything and assume it will be met with respect no matter how stupid what you're saying is?