Thursday August 6th, 2015

The exercise:

Write something that takes place in: the salon.

Inspired by Kat and Max getting haircuts this morning. Max, I gather, was much more of a challenge for the hairstylist than my wife. In fact they went to the park with Max sporting half a haircut before he was convinced to return to allow the job to be finished.

I am still trying to imagine his time at the park since, sadly, Kat didn't take any pictures.

In other news, the modular home is now on the foundations. The first half arrived yesterday, the other this morning. This afternoon they put the two pieces in place. Now the finishing work can begin (which is still quite a lot of work).

It's cool to finally see the new house though. We had a little walk around inside after dinner and I can't wait to see what it'll look like once everything is in place. The view from their future deck is going to be amazing.


"Did you hear about Hazel?" The blonde in my chair turned to look at the girl next to her. "She actually kissed Evan! Can you believe it?"

"Oh my god," her friend replied. "That's, like, totally gross."

"I know, right?"

I ran a comb through her long hair once, then again, and one more time until I hit a tangle. Just as she opened her mouth to continue her gossiping I gave my comb a good, hard yank.

"And owwwwwww! Oh my god, watch what you're doing! Are you like, trying to pull my hair out?"

I mumbled an apology before gathering the back of her hair into a ponytail. I attached a clip to keep things in place and put my comb down. My hand lingered over my collection of tools, my fingers twitching slightly.

"And Olivia broke up with Brock this morning, did you hear?" She was back to blabbering as though nothing had happened. Maybe she'd forgotten about the tangle already. "Time to get a move on with that tall hunk of man, am I right?"

"Girl, you cannot wait. We should go over to his house as soon as we're done here."

"Offer him some real southern comfort, am I right?" Her giggle made me grit my teeth. "And then tomorrow I can swing by Tommy's house, make sure he's still not over me. Maybe get him to wash my car."

"Ooh, good idea! I totally saw a smudge on the hood this morning."

I picked up my shears and began trimming the tips of her ponytail. I told myself to remain calm, remain professional.

"Did you see what that cow Marilyn was wearing today? It was like she got dressed in the dark - in a thrift shop!"

Without another thought I shifted to the base of her ponytail and cut it off. The screaming started immediately. I tried not to smile, or even laugh, but it was hard to keep a straight face while thinking about what my daughter's reaction would be when I told her about what I'd done. Marilyn was going to love it.


Greg said...

Aww, you've been catching up with comments again. I've been waiting to be able to tell you you're a month behind with them! However, it is nice that you're catching up again, I have noted your comment on wanting to hear a little more about Red Riding Hood and Mr. Wolfe.
Hah, Max at the park must surely have been interesting! And it sounds like you have less trouble getting him to have his haircut than Kat, so I can see that becoming your job from now on.
The modular home is interesting; I think they're called prefabs over here, but the ones in those pictures look much better than the image that prefab conjures up when I hear it. Some of those houses look thoroughly impressive. Tell me again why, when this is available, you're not going for my three extra storey suggestion? :)
And heh, nice denouement in your story today; I was waiting for the hairdresser to lose their patience, but you completely caught with out with the reason for it! You also managed to make your girls sufficiently vapid that I'm very happy about the final cut :)

The salon
"Did you hear about Hazel?" The blonde in my chair turned to look at the girl next to her. "She actually kissed Evan! Can you believe it?"
"Isn't he dead? Like, for the last three weeks?"
"Six actually," I said with a smile that failed to conceal my teeth. "And that's my chair you're sitting in."
The blonde, Agnieszka prompted my memory, looked up and started to speak. The girl sitting next to her, a pretty brunette with a dress that looked like it would fall off if she twisted the right way, laid a hand on Agnieszka's arm.
"Miss Hood," she said, her tone deferential. Agenieszka's lips snapped shut like an elastic band and she dropped her eyes and stood up.
I nodded.
"Miss Hood,..." said the brunette. I realised that I didn't know her name. "Might I ask... why do you have a dead body in your salon?"
I suppose it was a reasonable question, but I really didn't want to share the honest answer: I was pretty certain that Evan was a vampire and that if I buried him he'd only get up three days later and start terrorising people again. I thought I'd had the right kind of garlic in, but someone, mentioning no Agnieszkas, had used it for cooking so I'd had to order a new supply from Romania. It was past due, but there wasn't very much I could do about that. And while Evan sat there, not decomposing, it gave credence to my belief about his true nature.
"All English literary salons of the nineteenth century had a talking point," I said, still trying to get my mouth to smile instead of snarl. "Ours is a well-preserved corpse. What else would provide the right atmosphere for discussing Thomas Hardy's novels?"
"James Wolfe says you're a necrophile!" said Agnieszka, the words bursting out of her mouth like sewage from a pipe.
"Well, he'd know all about necrophilia," I said, sitting down.

Anonymous said...

No matter what I did, every nasty comment of arrogant look continued to flow in and out of my thoughts. It was a horribly montage, one that I wanted to end as soon as possible.
I couldn’t do this right. I couldn’t do that right. I was too this or not enough of that. Everything I tried couldn’t make him happy; I had lost my own happiness years ago by trying to appease him. But all that was in the past.
“Is this close to what you were thinking?” asked Patricia.
I took a look at the sample she was pointing to in her color binder. I involuntarily reached out and touched the soft strands. I had the urge to shake my head and politely decline. But this was for me, not for him.
“Yes, exactly. And could we go a little shorter than usual?”
Patricia gave me a smile. I’d told her all about my secret desires, ever since my first appointment with her. “Sure thing, Sweetie.”
Out of all the things he wanted out of me, all the things I had to change in order to try and please him, I had only asked Richie one thing: love me always.
Even though I wanted to cut off his hands, and other body parts, deep down I hoped Richie and Kayla would last as long as we did. I wanted Richie to realize that what he wanted didn’t exist, I wanted Kayla to know that she would never be enough for him. That was their own punishment and I would relish in it.
“There you are, Sweetie.” Patricia styled the last few strands before setting her manicured hands on her hips, the comb still trapped between two pink frosted fingers. “What do you think?”
I stared in shock at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, once long and caramel blonde, which would cascade off my shoulders in perfect curls, now was too short for even the most meager of pony tails. The gel Patricia used made the strands stick on end, spiking the back and adding flair to she short pixie bangs. But the brilliant deep purple brought out the aquamarine in my eyes and gave my usually sickly pale skin an ethereal glow.
Richie would have had a heart attack if he saw me. But I had never been happier when I handed Patricia my credit card.

Marc said...

Greg - my goodness, Miss Hood is a fascinating character in your hands. Much more so than the original, I must say.

Ivy - great mixture of the present scene and backstory in this one. Your ending left me feeling very happy for your protagonist.