Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Day 167 Hair

Going through the shopping centre today I saw her. She is working in a hair dressers. She was dressed like one of those beauticians in Stockmans. White tunic, white flat soled laceup shoes, gossamer white tights.

She looked like an angel. Neat, efficient, caring. I could have sworn she was surrounded by a shining aura. She could have been a hologram, flickering back and forth, in and out of reality. A princess Leah speaking to R2D2.

She was drinking coffee from a white mug. There was a trace of lipstick on the rim. It was the colour of damson. No!!! ripe pomegranate would be nearer the truth. Her lips were glossed.

In her left breast pocket she had a stainless steel comb, and a pair of chrome plated scissors, and on her right breast pocket she had a blue black name badge to match her hair. Britta!

I have absolutely no reason for going into the hairdressers, since I don't have a hair on my head. I shave it all off regularly.

Love will find a way.