By Gila Fine, December 4, 2014
He was born red. A violent shock of red hair covered his head, his forearms, his infant legs. A bad omen, said the midwife, and turned away from him to his crowning brother. The second-born was far more favourable. Fair and smoothed-skinned like his mother, timid and pious like his father; a much better heir. Yet he, Esau, would inherit the birthright.
He was a boy of the field.