I stirred. Laying in bed with my eyes closed, I smiled. I couldn't help myself, I got out of bed and took out the pair of stork scissors. The stork's yearning mouth opened up and swallowed the first plait of hair. My hair yielded under the stork's hungry beak, cleaving diagonally, brilliantly uneven. Still in a slumbering high, I paused and considered what I had done.
Snip. Snip. Snip.
It took more willpower than Will Power to get me to stop.
But I did.
And I like it.
(Don't worry friends and neighbors, I didn't do anything drastic.)
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
My legs were trembling when I made the first cut.
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