“I could smell rotting fish, the stench of rum barrels and unwashed bodies. I could also smell myself, because it had been quite a while since I had a bath. I didn't bathe much, the dirt kept me from looking like a woman….I was dressed like a boy because my mother has always dressed me that way to protect my chastity….she had contracted syphilis years before and the end was near. Either I remained a boy and signed on with one of the slave smuggling ships, or I became a doxy like my mom.

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