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the ringing of a bell
she watched her long locks cascading over her shoulder
unsure if she could go through with it.
small hands deftly plaited her curly tresses
until a braid rested along the length of her spine.
the reflection in the mirror was no longer familiar
and she turned to say she couldn’t do it.
the bell on the door announced the entrance of a small girl
head covered in a scarf tied in an african fashion:
still seated in her chair, the girl looked to see the newcomer.
and then, remained silent
as the small hand picked up the scissors.
the little girl in the doorway watched wide-eyed,
contrasting the tight-shut eyes in the chair,
as the silver jaws prepared to crop her curls.