HeyThereRose

United Kingdom

Busy building a life raft of words

Message to Readers

Possible entry for flash fiction competition, please review!

Hair cut

August 8, 2019

FREE WRITING

3
Slice. Rasp. Shudder. My hands shake. Don’t stop till the floor is littered with hair. My reflection recoils. My new fringe cuts across my forehead like a scar, and beneath it my eyes are visible. Too visible. They have seen too much. Scissors fall and clang against the floor like a plague bell, calling ‘bring out your dead’. But there is no coffin yet designed for a heart, nor soul.

Later I trim my fringe till it’s presentable. That’s all that matters. Nobody else will meet my eyes, those eyes, looking at me beseechingly from beneath my brunette scar.

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1 Comment
  • ajamwal

    OH MY GOD, this has happened two times today, I literally wrote the same thing, although I haven't published it, but I really did, HOW? lol


    about 1 year ago