Fair

As a teenager, my older brother used to joke that after every sunset, I'd glow in the dark. He said that under a black light, I radiated a ghostly, purplish aura. Once, at a family reunion, he even declared that on the last day of winter, my complexion grew so pale that anyone could see through me, like frosted glass.

There were no jests to be made about his soft, olive skin tone. He had no dryness to mar the creamy surface, no telltale birth marks or scars to inspire ridicule.

He was naturally godlike and golden-tan - how unfair.