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Tapping her foot on the hair…

Tapping her foot on the hair-covered ground she tried not to bite of his head. “I’ll show you”, he breathed. As naive as a three-year old she accepted this notion and proceeded to await his promise to come to pass. the focus of her eyes faded off into the distance as she rotated the ring on her ring finger. Her thoughts swum backwards through the years- a fairly short swim- to when it all begun.

He had stood there beside her as the moonlight waltzed witlessly to an unheard orchestra on the glassy surface of his gelled back hair. The moon stood high that night, surrounded by a fleet of puffy clouds that basked in its stolen light. The moon, however, was focusing all its attention on him, seeming somehow to worship and even bow down to him. Oblivious of how he looked, his words bounced out of his mouth like basketballs on a court but landed like feathered cushions in the air, somehow drifted their way to her heart. The heart he had stolen.

The clock chimed. The image that had been conjured up by her mind disappeared with a click, like a television pulled out of it’s socket.

Letting out a sigh, she reached for a magazine and began flipping through it aimlessly like a vagabond on the street. She grimaced at what was keeping him occupied, shooting lethal daggers at that being. “Surely getting a beard trimmed FOR YOU can’t take that long”, she spat under her breath. Beneath her stone cold expression the anger seethed and simmered like a volcano that was tired of being dormant.

As yet another page whizzed by, her eyes were enticed by its deep dark unfathomable color. Upon reeling back, her face drew into itself creating neat folds of skin above her hazel tinted eyes. The man in the pin stripe legal blue suit, gavel in hand accompanied by a beaming smile drowned her mercilessly in her memory of that night.

He had worn a similar suit that hugged him snugly, enough for her to see the prolific features of the rainy days in the gym. His hair that day reassembled the ocean on a calm summer day as he ran his hand through it and it emerged leaving not a hair out of its place. Her eyes caught the shimmer of the impeccable Rolex watch he always wore, and continued to follow it until it brushed fleetingly past his left pocket that seemed to bulge oddly that day.  He raised his hand up in mid-air, palm facing the ceiling,  and his eyes locked with hers for but a waning moment. His eyes, full of vitality yet a mirror to a world of mystery, danced at the corners. He fell to one knee as the world around – like water whirling its way down the drain- seemed to vanish into thin air.

Yet again, the world like a pin popped her reminiscing bubble.

He was almost done, maybe then she could see who she really needed to see.  Her hopes escalated sky-high as soon as she saw the barber retract his hair-hungry device. It was like a pin to a red balloon when the razor relapsed back the subject’s face like the mere affinity for hair was too great to overcome. Her emotions now flared like the fire that flares from a mother dragon’s mouth. She proceeded in her futile attempts to tame that roaring feeling inside by she tried to read the next line in the magazine – that she should have been engrossed in – as she “patiently” waited. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.  Her feet had caught onto the ferocious ambiance created by that MAN! She crossed one leg over the other…… TAP……….TAP…………………TAP.  Managing to at least drop their tempo, she sighed exasperatedly.

She had no choice but to wait patiently on that … that! After all he was the only one who knew where to find her husband. Her entire body slumped, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, after this realization.

 

 

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