and she runs, as hard and fast as she can. Against all motion, she runs. Above the sting of her legs, she runs. no stopping her, she just runs...finally, collapsing at the centre of the room. The mahogany parquet squeaking against her knees.
wanting to reach the exit, she pulls herself forward, her palms flat against the polished wood. pulling herself forwards, her legs a leaden weight, she pulls. she struggles.
drag.
drag.
there, she finds a pair of scissors, the thin stainless steel types. the ones people use to slit their breasts in the dark of the night or the types they ram down their throats on a hot thursday afternoon.
and she starts, cutting her hair.
locks of unhappiness fall to the ground and the vileness of the day disappears as if the vileness had previously crept down to the ends and i've just snipped it off, their lashing tongues, never a sight.
looking at herself in the polished mahogany, her hair is just hair.
her hair has ceased to be imagery or a cause for literary devices.
It is just, hair.
and she has found, her felicity.
2 comments:
Each of us dreams of big purchases. We are stuck in my superintendent the images that we see in movies or on commercials. Paper bags laden with women march proudly through shopping malls. Oh yes! It's something I wanted to savoir vivre each of us. Well it certainly need not at all bad financial resources. No matter what, it is worth paying attention to something else. For those paper bags. Certainly each of us with such well wishes go shopping, or to save any other purpose [url=http://www.pakiart.pl]torby papierowe[/url]. Nowadays we can be prevalent in such bags specializing in the companies. Very often we also possess with these publication bags which are bags ordered near the personal shops and businesses.
I guess cutting hair is comparable to slashing breasts...sometimes.
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