Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Goth Girl & Me

The tattooed Goth girl came at me with a pair of scissors.  She grabbed a fist full of my hair, then went for a razor and hacked at it. I felt tugging and could hear the sound of hair being ripped away from my head.  It was sickening, like a bird of prey attacking me. 

I kept unusually quiet - I didn't want to antagonize the girl holding the weapon.
"How many haircuts do you do in a day?" I finally ventured.

"Up to thirty-five." she responded.  "You have thick hair." 

("Had" I thought.)

"I put a lot of layers in it so it will lay nice."

When she was finished, she whipped off the black cape and was clearly proud of herself.  After I put my glasses on she looked at me again.  Then she put the cape back on and whacked at my hair some more.  Finally satisfied, she let me escape.  I thanked her (I did mention that she was holding a razor, right?) and as I got out of the chair, glanced at myself in her mirror.

Where I once had hair, I now have feathers.  Lots of them.
 


2 comments:

Pamela Nastase said...

No picture? I'd love to see you with feathers. Do you resemble Henrietta?

Cindy Preston said...

I think we need pictures!