She had a nose that wasn't hers. Everyone in her family knew it was different. "Whose nose do you have?" She didn't know. She was told she had been born without a nose, so the doctors gave her a dead stranger's. A Jew, perhaps. She wasn't religious but she felt she should be. She didn't belong. Someday, she wanted to find the family of the nose. She wanted to see if she fit there, rather than within her own family. Instead of flared nostrils, the tip was hooked. Rather large. Because of this, she detested her profile. Even worse, after smashing her face on a kitchen bench while twirling in the kitchen circa 1996, one side of her face looked better than the other. It was a curse, this unfamiliar nose. What if she never grew into it? She would remain a stranger to others, as well as herself. Self-identity crisis. She would have to embark on a special journey--the journey of the hooked nose.