Chop, a hunk of hair. The scissors flashed as I grabbed heavy handfuls and cut it down to the scalp.
All tagged truth
Chop, a hunk of hair. The scissors flashed as I grabbed heavy handfuls and cut it down to the scalp.
After he reloops his belt, he holds me, asking about my plans for the day, about seeing me again. I sigh and say, "I don't really believe you."
“How are you?” She’s walking friendly toward me in a Walmart-blue vest. I “hello” back. “Oh, I’m actually talking to the blue jay.”