Loving A Staid II

“What the hell is this!!” My father’s voiced boomed in his oval office. It was a spacious office, with oak desks, sparkling white walls, air diffusers that emitted a woody scent. The scent however, was the last thing on my mind as he barked out his question.

The Hairdresser

I sat on the white plastic chair, staring at the thick black mass that was my hair when she walked in. I readied myself for the usual and she did not disappoint. Like every hairdresser before her she exclaimed, “Ehn? Is this real? Is this your hair?