I used so many words yesterday
there were none left for mindful writing.
I'm in the city.
I have errands and appointments.
Constant interaction with doctors, strangers, and shop people
When I was younger, I thrived on this mix.
Now, not so much.
One of my last stops is at the salon for a hair cut.
It's the high point of my day.
My "gal" is not young.
However, she's very hip.
Red lips and swinging asymmetrical blonde hair,
she's wearing skinny boyfriend jeans (rolled of course)
just above her high-heeled ankle boots.
Tight black tank dress shows just a hint of lacy black t-shirt.
I'm in my usual and very ordinary black on black,
yoga pants and T.
She pays strict attention as I sit in the chair.
(An artist ready to create a masterpiece?)
After shampooing, massaging, and patting dry,
she raises her scissors and begins.
Grey hair flies from my scalp.
We laugh and talk as she works.
My hair gets shorter and shorter.
She twists and gels it into spikes.
I am transformed in less than an hour.
I am still a grammy, but now a hip grammy.
I'm thinking about ankle boots or at least skinny jeans.
The new me.
small stone - Mindful Writing Challenge