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face as she absorbed herself in the job of cutting her hair. Snip. snip.
The chunks of strands fell straight to the ground without floating around too much. Chop. Chop. So straight.
And with a straight faceboth of them.
Pinched lips, as I stare back at the mirror, wet hair making my face drag and making sad eyes seem empty. A young face to drag. The hairdresser grabbed for the blow dryer.

Oh you don't have to dry it I said scratching my neck.

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure I thought it's my own hair and my money, but I only nodded. She removed the plastic apron and a few scraps of hair floated thinly down, so tiny and beautiful in the afternoon sunlight glowing through the clean glass windows above the exotic plants. I couldn't tell if they were real or not.

I wanna be a writer I thought to myself as I walked up to the register, sad-eyed. Sad eyes see empty. I pulled out my teal wallet tucked away safely within a zipper pouch in my brown leather purse. First a five, then another five, and another five. Then two ones for a tip. Karen didn't need a big tip. There was nothing special done to my hair. 17 dollars later and a right turn after the glass door and I was in the open air again, a little crisper than inside. A little free-er too. No hairspray lingering in the atmosphere and through her nostrils. Step. Step. Step step. Step step step. Step and my momentum gets going, but not too fast.
No need to hurry. Maybe a cup of coffee would do. I have nothing better to do right now and I'd like to sit down and drink something warm before the sun sets. I might like to watch a few people. Starbucks is always good for that, everyone knows that, even the un-observant people. I run my hands through my wet hair in brisk up and down movements. Some water spews off in tiny spurts. I hope my hair will dry fast. God, I hate the feeling of wet hair. [1]
Natalie opened the door to America's hot coffee hell, glad to be away from the ever-cooling breeze that goes along with the end of the day. She was thinking about her bad haircut, trying to forget it, and letting her mind wander to other things.like that crush.
He was cute and all but she didn't really like him. I mean not really. It was like in elementary school when you really like someone, but then you realize later that you didn't really really
like him or her, you just thought you did. Anyway, he was cute and all but her feelings were too complicated. Not as simple as she'd like them to be.[2] She put these things out of her

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