Isabelle washes Helen’s hair in record time. Toweling it dry, she says, “You’ll look younger when I cut it
short.”She cuts great swaths from Helen’s long hair. The scissor blades flash silver.
Soon most of Helen’s heavy mane lay on the floor.
“Do you like it?” Don’t say anything. Wait until I blow it dry and it has more body.”
The dryer whines as Isabel styles Helen’s new bob.
She holds a mirror to reveal the back of the hairdo.
I never did understand why you were so vain about that long hair.” Isabel flicks an errant lock into
“There. Now let me see your nails.”
Isabel clucks at the bright red. "Nails are easier to keep short. And you don’t need polish.”
She takes the nail scissors from the tray. Snip, and then snip. Tiny silver sparks leap from the scissors.
Snip, snip. Scarlet nails
sail through the air and join Helen’s hair on the
Isabel stands back, satisfied. “Look at you. Years younger and more stylish.”
She holds the mirror so her old rival can see the transformation.
“I know you’ll want to look your best tomorrow. You’ll only have one funeral.”
I've been writing on and off for years and this is where my more serious pieces will be.