Cut, short!


It’s been almost a year since I last sat in this chair.  I have dreaded this moment.  But ever since this thing has grown out of proportions, I have actually been starting to look forward to this moment.  I’m wondering if it will hurt, if I will feel different after the cut down moment.

The person standing behind me is getting ready, putting the metal tools on the table.  Should I feel nervous?
“Are you ready?” A sweet and understanding voice, does not keep me from hesitating. I   then nod my head, unable to find my voice.

See how the person behinds me takes the tools and comes closer to me. I doubt if I made a sane and correct decision.  I can’t, I …

shut my eyes.  The sound of cutting, a tug at my head, a feeling of being freed of a terrible weight.
“It’s done!”  The voice coming from behind me sounds happy, uplifting.

I open my eyes, scared and curious at the same time.  Just in time to see the person behind me put the thing, she cut down in a big brown envelope.
I … look… different.

The mirror shows my hair is cut short for the first time in 18 years.   The braided and cut hair in the envelope is send to Think Pink.  I feel sorrow but am proud of myself!  I’ve finally done something I always wanted to do!  Donate my hair, to make wigs for people affected by cancer.  I just have to find a way being happy looking at this new face in the mirror!



  1. Ha, awesome twist, I like it a lot. It reminds me of when I was 18 (having never had anything more than a trim, when I had all my hair cut off) it was a shock alright!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Writespiration #80 Utopia | Sacha Black

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