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Busy building a life raft of words

Message to Readers

Possible entry for flash fiction competition, please review!

Hair cut

August 8, 2019


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