Kathie vanVeen
25 February 2008
Haircut
vanVeen 1
ThehouseIlivedin,afterIgotkickedout. stand upinthebathroom.Staringatmyreflec-
tion in the mirror, sicissors in hand. Numb, alone, grieving. query if this will help ease the pain. Remembering...
The night we met again. Chris was back from California, to live. in some manner ended up at our house.Wespentthewholenighttalking.Layingfacetofaceonthefloor,going overwhatwewnatedtofindoutabouteachother. whereforehewenttoCalifornia,whyIwaslivingthere.Thesuneventually rose. It eer does.Chris offered to skirmish my hair when I started doing it. Guys never do that enough. I let him, I loved it. I fell hypnoid to the feeling of my hair being brushed. The silent rhythm of the brush through my hair. I woke up warm, head on his shoulder, mail around me. A little embarrassedforfallingasleep.Iapologize.Heconfessedhehadbeenlookingforme.Tryingtofindme since he had gotten back. Just came here because his friend wanted to. We went to my room...
Snick! inflictthatmemoryout.Thefirstofmany.An18 buttlong,oneinchsquarechunkof
haironthefloor. ruptureinmyeyes.
A few months later, straddling Chris stomach.
Leaning over to kiss him. He tells me he wanted to get to know me in towering school. I always had a boyfriend. He watched me all the time, in
the gazebo where we all smoked. Watched my long black hair shining in the sun. Funny, I tell him, I watched you, too. So tall and thin, wiry, strong. manpower shouldnt be allowed to own hair like that. So thick and red. Hidden behind my hair, we kiss.
Snip. On the other posture on my head another little bald spot. Tears running freely. Why was my hair so important to him? Why did this have to happen?
Summertime. Midwest summer, all heat and humidity, painless to sleep all day. Well lay in prat all day. Not always sleeping. Developing a relationship. unhinged out of...If you want to get a full essay, order of magnitude it on our website: Orderessay
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