Lead Locks

Current Mood: Bored

Somewhere in the world there was one more person with a bad hair cut. Why she did it, I have no idea. She, who had lovely crimson tresses that flowed in spiraling curls down to the arch in her back, would intermittently go crazy. Every once in a while the bug would get her. That itch for change. And then, it was all down hill. The sharp, clean sound of the shears were a welcome noise. It felt like freedom as her locks fell away. Each cut making her lighter and lighter. One would think that her hair consisted of lead and steel. The locks rained down making loud clanking noises as they hit the cold concrete floor.

"Stop all that racket!" Mrs. Burnham would be saying. -That is if she wasn't busy playing Mah Jong with her friends from Temple. Burnham didn't seem like a Jewish name to Eleanor. But that just goes to show, you can't judge a book by it's cover. ...Back to cutting. If she didn't make the pieces small, someone was sure to notice. And Eleanor didn't want to get caught.