Thursday, 17 September 2009

White Lines

She stared at the thin white line before her, fingering the credit card in her pocket. How had it come to this?

A sullen girl hovered by her side. Twitching. Impatient.

‘You need help?

‘No, I’m… I’m OK.’

She knew she had to make a decision. Do it now, or leave.

Minutes later she threw her head back. Pleasure coursed through her body. Heat and cold pulsed in equal measure.

She smiled at the girl.

‘You have no idea how much I needed that.’

You’ll be back, the girl’s eyes said. You’re hooked already. You’ll need it more and more.

She left, silencing music she didn’t know as she closed the door behind her. Head held high, she walked away. Then stopped, startled by her reflection in the window of the place where the deed was done.

She was changed.

She tarried for a moment; she could just about see the girl, moody still, clearing away the detritus of her visit. The girl had been right. She would be back.

Fifty pounds for a colour, shampoo and set was a bargain.

Pleased, she ran her fingers over shiny lacquered hair.

‘Pure brunette again. And all my grey is gone.’

(c) Michele Ranger/Lily Childs August 2009
Runner Up - Writers' Magazine Online Forum 'Talkback' One Word Challenge