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?I should just shave my head.? My mom said as she ran her nimbly fingers through her light red spiraling mane of floppy curls, though the curls had begun to dry out and it become harsh work to even comb a small section of it. Nothing worked on her hair; no styling product was able to give a look that she liked. And cutting it shorter meant that the curls would pouf up. And it looked the same at any other length, so she grew it to the mid of her back. For her, it seemed that the curls weren?t to swollen at that length, but she had no way to control them.

?I don?t see why you don?t. If I was you, I would.? Those words came from my lips as I stood in the doorway of the narrow bathroom. My eyes edging down her form, studying what she was wearing. My eyes met the floor before they met with her clean, bright white socks that hugged her feet, which where covered by her tight fitting blue jeans, and her jeans were than covered by the brim of her white, long sleeved, V-neck shirt.

My mom?s head turned to look me in the face, her right eyebrow raised in a confused manner as her trenched red lips slipped with a smirking smile. ? And this is coming from someone whose hair reaches his chest??

?Though, my hair is straight, so I don?t have the problems that you do. I may do it sometime soon. To me it seems like fun, going from long hair to no hair, knowing that you don?t have mess with it, or have to worry if its in place, or use a bottle of shampoo a week, or have to use styling products for awhile, you feel cooler, makes you look skinner, draws attention to your eyes, and you would never have bed head. All those luxuries that you have never ever had for the forty-three years of your life, just by shaving off something that you hate and can always grow back. Also, if you shave your head, the next time you grow your hair in, it may grow back thicker and fuller and you may not have the problems you have been facing all your life.? I rattled on about something that she would never take into consideration.

?It sounds great, but I could never shave my head, maybe I just don?t have the guts to do it.? My mom frowned as she spoke.

?The way I see it, you just got divorced from a cheating asshole, and have not started to reinvent your life, so it may be time to do something a little wild. It?s a chance to liberate yourself, to be reborn. Do something that people are scared of doing and feel proud about yourself. You?re just getting rid of hair you don?t like, so what?s the attachment?? I tried my best to lay on the pressure, maybe to break through to her. Out of my seventeen years I had never seen my mom get her haircut or even change her hairstyle, so this might be my chance and a big one at that.

?You kept saying how great it would be, but I don?t see you rushing out the door to get it done.? She said with a laughing grin as she continued to try and run her hands through her hair to get a decent style to go out with.

?I just may do so. I like my hair, but I am not attached to it, so if it gets shaved off, it wouldn?t hurt me at all. So, if I wanted to do right now, I would be game for it.? My words were true to my feelings. The thought of shaving my head never came into my mind, until I grew my hair long. I had wanted to do for a while now, but never knew when the right time would be, but when that moment came I couldn?t wait.

?Would you do it today, right now? I bet you won?t.? Her head turned towards me, a look of superiority on her face as she grinned.

?I?m ready right now, let?s go.? I said happily, she had picked the right moment for me. Though, in my mind, I was thinking that my other dream might come as well.

?Alright, we?ll go right now, just let me tame my hair, so I can even go out.?

?If you?d shave your head you wouldn?t have to do that.? I said smugly.

?I?ll just enjoy it through your eyes as all of your hair is shaved off.? She mouthed as she walked passed me and into her bedroom and stood in front of her open closet. She pulled back two different pairs of shoes and took a comfortable seat on the end of her bed. ? What kind of shoe should I wear?? She held one shoe from each pair in her opposite hand. In all reality, the two ere completely different from each other, the one in her left hand was a chucky, shiny black boot and in the other hand she held a flat, fully black expect for three narrow white strips that horizontal on the single black strap, adidas sandal.

?I like the adidas sandals better, a cool, but comfortable look.?

She slid her feet into them, her white socks filling in the uncovered toe and heel area of the shoe, the only thing that kept them on was the one strap that ran over the middle of the foot. ?Ok, let?s go get your head shaved, which I don?t think is really going to happen.?

Both of us got into my Ford Explorer, with me driving, since I knew where I wanted to go to do it. Maybe it?s just because of my cape fetish and the fact that I really like those capes that I felt it would be the place to go. I crept the overly abundant SUV into the parking place and put it in park. Taking our cue, we both got out of the vehicle and stood in front of the white letters that spelled out, SUPERCUTS.

?I guess you were serious, but I am still not sure you will go through with it.? She fumbled in the air, letting ride over the hood of my car as we walked to the door.

I opened the door and held it open for my mom to walk in as she was greeted by the look of the salon. The design was simple; it was just a narrow room that was more length than it was width, with chairs, stations and mirrors lining both sides of the wall. And in front of all that was the cramped waiting area that had two corner couches made of an itchy blue fabric and the white desk of the receptionist.

As I walked the small path to the looking down receptionist, I peaked around the salon, just to maybe see if a women was getting her haircut in there, but the truth was the place was empty, which made me a little nervous, since that would mean I would have no time to think about my decision. I just thought it would be better to have to wait and have time to give some thought to it, than to jump right in.

My feet stopped in front of the elevated desk, my eyes zeroed on the middle-aged receptionist, her short-cropped brown hair staring at me as she studied something that was laying in front of her.

?Nick Rivers for a haircut.? I breathed out in one expel.

The women behind the desk didn?t say anything, but wrote my name down. Then she turned around to check the styling area, only to be greeted by the form of another women that looked to be in her forties. Though, it was hard to tell her real age, since some of her features looked to be younger. Her long, cherry brown hair reached to the mid of her back in heavy waves. Her tight, short sleeve dark brown shirt exposed her hourglass shape. Her jeans her tugged against her body, following every line and curve they had in them. And her firm, pointy black boots gave her an even sexier look. This was a good thing, since it?s easier to get a haircut from a hot woman.

She glanced at the list, reading my name off it. ?Hi, Nick, I am Becky and I?ll take you back right now, if you?re ready.? She said as she led me back, my mom followed close behind me as we were taking to the stylist?s light purple chair. ?Please, take a seat.? Off the counter, she grabbed the squarely folded, shiny lavender nylon cape and slipped it over one arm as she grabbed a white neck tissue from the dispenser quickly.

As my weight pushed against the cushioned back of the chair and placed my shoes on the U-shaped metal footrest, my hairstylist was right behind me. Her arms came over my shoulders and head, as her hands stretched out the neck tissue. She slowly placed it around the front of my neck and with a speedy leap of movement, she thrusted my light brown hair from my neck and let it hook on to the front of my shoulder, taped the tissue in place and than let my hair sway back over my neck. The tissue itched, with a foreign feeling, but it went away as I heard the giant whoosh of the cape being unfolded behind me. Like a blowing flag, the cape hovered over me, before it touched down just below my knees. Catching an anchor with my knee, it begin to over take me like a glimmering lavender symbiote, jacketing over my olive pants, and ballooning over my black button down shirt as it pushed against the arm rest, sliding across my hand with a tingling coolness. It took a its shape as a colorful slope as it reached my neck, again Becky thrusted my hair from my neck and placed it over my shoulder as she snapped one of the buttons into a placeholder, bringing the cape together. I had gone under the first transformation of the haircut in a salon; my form becoming an incline of slick, smooth polished purple that proudly displayed in incurved large white letters the name of the salon, SUPERCUTS across its chest.

As I sat prone in the cape, I had forgotten about my mom during the process, and with a swift shift of my eyes I took a glace at her as she sat in the chair opposite of me. One of her legs folded over her knee and her hand pressed against her smooth face, holding back the mass of curls that fought to hang against her face. Her look had a quiet smirk on, almost sadistic, as she knew that since I was caped, the next thing would only mean that the cutting was next.

?So, what are we?ll be doing today?? Becky said, standing beyond me, studying me in the mirror.

Before I could speak, she begun pumping up the chair to her desired height, my caped shape being lifted higher into the mirror.

?Well, I?m really ready for a major change. I?ve grown my hair long and it just seems right to go completely the opposite way and shave it all off. I have enjoy taking care of my long hair and now its time to take a break from taking care of it.? My lips pressed with hints of smiles as I spouted off what should be done.

?Really, you?re really a brave person. So, how far to you want it taken down?? With no wasted time, she was already pulling out the slim, black pair of clippers out of the drawer.

?No guard, I want it as close as possible.?

Ready to get to her job, she came back around the back of chair. I watched her movements in the mirror as she pulled a band from her arm to wrap my hair in a ponytail.

?Can you cut my hair as it is, instead of cutting it off in a ponytail??

?Sure.? Was voiced in a cute tone as she reached over to the counter to grab the clippers that she had laid there.

My heart begun to run miles as she appeared behind me again, as she clicked on the clippers and let them hum as she cocked her arm in a bend, facing my forehead, the fat cord of the clippers twisting against the chest of the cape, its weighty feeling being graced against my shoulder. As that moment came into position, my mom got up from her seat and stood in front of the chair to see the shearing. She giggled as the clipper blades pressed next to my head.

Crisscrossing blades severed stands of soft brown hair that were lifted off my head as the clipper passed over, the feeling was like my hair was being taken away by a sheet of cool air. After the clippers met the back of my head, I witnessed the white path that was left behind, but no hair had fallen yet. My head moved slightly to get a minor angle on the bald patch that contrasted with my flowing hair, to maybe see if I could pull off being bald. With the small shift of my head, several bands of hair came off together, falling pass my right eye, gazing it with a soft brush. Without losing speed, they hit the angled chest of the cape, sliding along the silky nylon before stopping their slide at the somewhat flat part of my lap. My eyes were focused on the dissimilarity of the shiny cape and my light brown locks as they bended into U shapes.

A spatter of hair bubbled against my shoulder as Becky pulled another strip of hair from head. With quick pulls of the clippers, she continued to reduce the hair to the scalp as she came closer to level my hair with my ear. Going horizontal up the temple side of my head the clippers took off that hair, letting it dip on to the cape like spilling water. She moved around my ear, getting the dangle slim pieces that continued to hang, with that she had finished the right side. The shoulder of the cape was splatter with long hair that wouldn?t move. It was shorter than the first path of hair that was taken off and didn?t have the weight to pull its self off my nylon clothed shoulder.

With some quick passes over the already shorn parts, Becky used her slim hand to push the bundle of clumping hair off my shoulder, her sensitive fingers rustling the material of the cape. As I twisted my head to see the side that had been shorn, I did my best to see what it would like to be completely bald. I was liking it some, but I looking more to reeking the benefits from it. It wasn?t about looks for me; it was the feeling of losing all that hair.

While I was looking at my unfinished haircut, Becky and my mom were talking.

?I am sure you have been dreaming for awhile that you?re son would finally get rid of his long hair.?

?I have somewhat. I didn?t know when he was going to do, he was going to get rid of all of it.? My mom laughed as she peered her eyes on me.

?Would you like to cut some of it?? Becky questioned my mom, knowing that every mother would love to do that to her longhaired son.

?I?m game.? She spoke as she took the clippers that Becky had handed to her.

Becky stepped behind me, as my mom got right in front of me. Her knees pressed against my caped knees with the brim of it skirting around the front of my shin as she leaned over me to get herself in position. Holding the clippers with one hand, she gently pressed them against the remaining hair that was on the one side of my forehead. As she gained confidence, she pushed the clippers fasting, letting the hair drizzle and fall either on my shoulder or floating behind my back.

?This is really fun, I think I like shaving off your long hair, seeing it slide down the cape, just gone.? She giggled almost evilly as my mom sheared more off.

I felt my hair being lifted from my neck as I felt the tap of the metal edge of the clippers met the base of my head as Becky, with another pair of clippers, begun to shave the back of my head. As the hair snapped from its roots as Becky severed it, she clutched the handful of long hair in her hand for a second before she let it drop and splash against the white linoleum floor.

?Nothing better than to be shaved my two beautiful women.? I chuckled it out as a joke.

The two laughed, but still continued with their shaving. My mom shaved off the long pieces of hair hanging around the sideburn area, it dived for the lake of the cape, skimming down my chest in a quick race. I wondered my eyes at the clouding hair that was forming in the middle of my lap. So many strands had piled together it was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended. My once brown hair seemed even darker as it churned over itself in my lavender thighs. Before I knew it, the two were down searching out the last strands of my hair.

In three minutes it was all gone, but it felt like it was lasting forever in a good way. I wanted to stay under the cape and get shaved again, but knew that soon I would have to leave.

?Finished.? Becky exclaimed turning off her set of clippers, with my mom following her lead.

Like metal teeth being pulled, Becky unbuttoned the cape, but left it resting on my shoulders. With a wiry dust off brush, she began to sweep away any stray hairs that had gotten down in the collar of the cape and neck tissue. With some quick sweeps she dusted off my face. As she put the duster away, she returned to my back, almost a feeling that I got used too. She lifted the sides of the cape off my shoulders, helping it stand up in front of me. As she lifted it off my knees, she had to tug a little with the weight of piled hair that had cumulated there, but soon it dumped passed my knees and scattered over the floor to be swept up with the rest of the hair.

Even with out the cape on, I sat in the chair, the neck tissue in plain sight now, since there was no hair to cover it up. I rub my nimble fingers over my exposed skin, feeling the difference between the soft feel of hair and the smoothness of never before touched skin, it was a feeling that I liked.

?So, what do you think?? Beck said as she folded the cape.

?Its perfect, great look and I feel a hell of a lot cooler now. Everyone should do this at least once, male, female, or kid. It?s just an experience to not have hair that you have had on your head for decades. It?s like I?ve been reborn and a new life awaits me, really an awing experience.? I rambled on, still in stock that this was finally done and the fact that maybe by doing this I had gotten through to my mom that it wasn?t as bad as she thinks it is. ?What do you think mom??

She rubbed her hands over my hand in a playful fashion, ?Surprisingly, you look good with no hair, not tough looking, but than not odd like you?re a cancer patient.?

Becky lowered the chair, it falling fast to the ground. She than broke the neck tissue in a vigorous way and threw the ends into a garage can laying next to the station a foot away.

Unevenly I rose, not knowing how much weight my hair put on me. As my foot pressed off the footrest, I turned to my smiling mom and said, ?Ok, time for your haircut.?

?Sorry, guys, but we?re closing early today.? Becky blurted out as she laid the folded cape of the back of the chair.

?That?s too bad.? I muttered as I pulled a five from my pocket and laid it on top of the cape as a tip as Becky swept my shorn hair into a mounting pile. With almost no words spoken, I paid for the haircut and the two of us left the salon. We jumped in my car, but I didn?t start it.

?Now, what are your thoughts? Will you shave your head?? I peaked into her shimmering eyes as hers wondered over the cleanness of my head.

?Umm?let?s say I am interested, but I still don?t know.? Her hazel eyes lingered to the floor in uncertainty.

?Just do it, just go in and have it done and don?t think about the consequences afterwards. I really don?t know why people shun shaving tbeir head so much, since all it is, is another haircut. Though, people don?t know how great it really is, to free yourself from your hair, from something that you fuss with everyday and spend money on to fuss with it some more. And for you, this should have been the first thing you should have done. It all comes down to you saving time and money on something that you hate anyways. Just imagine stepping out of the shower and only having to towel off your head and not mess with the blow dryer for an hour. I just want to see you take a break from messing with your hair and stop wasting money on it. Shave your head, feel good about it, and take the money that you would have spent on styling products, conditioners, and coloring and you buy yourself some really nice clothes.? These words came from my lips, from my mind. Though they didn?t seem like mine, it seems that I had been opened by shaving my head, free to think clearly.

?I want to take a break from it too.? She almost whispered as she leered at her lap.

I leaned over and embraced her in a huge hug, and whispered, ?No matter what you change, you?ll still be the most beautiful women in the world.? Giving her reassurance if she was having any doubt about her looks.

With Supercuts out of the question, I pondered on the next place to go as I drove. The only place that had come to mind was the mall, a place that had several hair salons to pick from under one roof.

What seemed only like seconds, we were already parked and inside the mall. In a torrent rush, I searched around for a familiar name. In this flash of searching, I don?t think my mom knew what I was doing. My eyes snapped and popped with excitement, the words spelled were spelled with perfect white neon letters, Regis Hairstylists. Though, this wasn?t one of the redesigned Regis salons, which were fitted with wood floors and a large white front with Regis painted in black. This one had a thick black awning over the door and white pillars that came door along the side of the opening. Inside it was checked with black and white tiles and blended with black vinyl chairs and white styling stations, a unification of contrasting black and white through the whole salon.

With my mom in the tide of my fast pacing, I walked up to the elevated sprayed black receptionist desk. Knowing that my mom may be a little shy or too deep in though right now to ask for a haircut herself, so I took charge for her.

?My Mom, Jan Rivers needs a haircut.? As the receptionist wrote my mom?s name down, it gave me a chance to leer a glace at how busy the salon was and for a weekend, the place wasn?t that busy, only two people were in the chairs right now.

?Ok, if she can go to the first chair on the left, her stylist will be right with her.? The long blonde teenage receptionist said with only a swift glimpse at me.

Even after hearing the words, my mom still stood behind me, maybe still in thought of what was actually happening. I knew that she was ready, but I think she was still a little apprehensive about it. Getting behind her, a gently pushed her up the two steps that led to the styling area, and to the black vinyl chair that was the finally place she would have long hair.

Like a frightened child, she slide her back into the chair, her white shirt complementary the dark material of the styling chair. To help her, I bent down and lifted her feet and placed them on the U-shaped footrest. As I stood up, she seemed to have relaxed a little; she had placed her hands on the hard plastic armrests and took a deep breath.

I came along the side of her, reveling her reflection in the mirror to her. Her melting red, curly hair fall over her shoulders and tickled around her stomach. Her curls looked like they were scrunched and gave off a look as if they were a little wet. They looked good in the mirror, better than they ever had, but now for my mom and wasn?t about if they looked good, it was about how much work she had to do, how much pain she went through trying to comb it. The fact that whatever she did to it, made it look worse. That fact that they took an hour to dry even with a blow dryer, that always frayed the ends. She was sick of it having to go in public with bed head, since she was unable to run every type of comb ever made through her hair. And as those thoughts weren?t through her head, they were soon transferred into words. ?I?m Ready.?

In perfect timing, a slender woman came from the back of the salon headed in our direction. Her face determined her age to be in her twenties. Her hair was cropped and tapered short, dipped in a black color. She wore a white mini skirt, quarter sleeved black shirt, with a pair of pink platform sandals.

?Hey, I?m Jessica, I?ll be doing your hair today.? The woman said as she leaned over the side of the chair and showed her hand in a greeting.

As my mom shook her hand she said, ?Hi, I?m Jan.?

?So, Jan, what will we be doing today?? Jessica smiled out the words standing idled behind the chair. ?Well, I am not lying when I say I hate my hair. I have literally tried every thing on it and still won?t work for me. It?s so knotty that I can?t even comb it and really it?s one of most embarrassing things to go out with bed head, since the comb couldn?t get more than a couple of inches before being snagged. And I can?t cut it short, because I have already had to live through that and it was just horrible. The curls made my hair look like a really bad Afro and it was a really depressing experience for me. So, my son seeing how much my hair has caused me has talked me into shaving it all off. As crazy as it sounds, it?s a good idea for me, since I think I would be much happier with no hair than with hair that has to been hassled with everyday.?

?I have always practiced giving what my clients want and if that?s want you want to do, that?s what you will get.? Jessica sparked a smile before striding over to her station?s cabinets and drawing out the middle drawer with a slight tug. She lifted a white pair of clippers high in the air, away from the clutter of the drawer, almost stringing out the cord all the way out and than plugging it in to the outlet next to the mirror. ?What do you want it taking down to? A #2 or #3??

?I want it taking down to the skin, just like my son?s.? My mother winked at me as she said those words.

?Ok.? Jessica remarked as she laid the clippers down on the white counter top and placed her hand on the doubled over sheet of reflecting black vinyl cape that rested prone. She positioned over her forearm as she made her way to the back of the chair again. Her fingers tipped the collar as her wrists flicker and let the thick fabric bellow out to its full length next to the chair.

I clambered on to the other side of the chair and gathered the lust of messy curls in my hands and held them on top of my mom?s head to expose her neck for the coming cape.

With a quick swing, the cape puffed with air before settling down. The dense, but smooth cape brimmed right above my mom?s calves, tacking itself like tar to her blue jeans. It paved like asphalt as it made a small hill out of my mom?s mid section and chest, creating a small pocket of air between her stomach and the cape. The black vinyl frosted over her shoulders, swirling around her neck as the stiff white collar tucked around her skin and the ends were velcroed together. She had been blanketed in slim, soft black vinyl and on the right side her chest the words Regis read in white, topping over the smaller words Hairstylists underneath it. The sensation of the cooling vinyl was keyed in her knees, on her bare hands and around her shoulders as she sat with the cape.

I unhanded her fortune of twisting curls to flood over the cape and her neck. Her hair reached to her stomach pushed away from her body by the incline of the cape. Against the light capturing black vinyl cape her bright red hair shimmered with new glow in contrast.

Jessica curled her fingers around my mom?s caped shoulder as she placed her foot upon the hydraulic lift pump. With each press of her foot, the chair lurched up higher and higher, with jerky movements, exposing more of my mom?s tarp covered shoulders in chest in the mirror.

With out words, Jessica reached for the clippers, flicking them on as she stopped on the side of the chair. ?Can you lean her head down??

My mom complied and bent her head forward, her face facing her black covered lap with stands of packing hair hanging without support from the cape, along the sides of her face.

Her eyes watched as the clippers came from underneath her face and disappeared as they tackled her forehead. The knotty hair severed against the aggressive blades as they zoomed up the middle of her scalp and hung in mid-air at the tip of the back of her skull. At the same time, a spurt of loose, long hair came sinking from my mom?s head and plastered themselves on to the angled cape. Like rocks coming off a mountainside, the snaking threads of hair tumbled over themselves as they were greased along by the cape?s surface. Skidding and twirling to a halt, they collected on top of her canvas-enclosed knees.

Jessica lifted the clippers to the right side of her scalp and sheared off a wide row of curling hair. The path of hair was taken with the clippers riding up to the back of her skull, mounting like a flowing river against the clippers blades, but as Jessica pulled the clippers away, in a suicidal dive the clumping hair stumbled pass its once roosting spot and churned on to the cape. With the torrent of hair, it slithered down my mother?s caped chest and bumped into the other resting hair that was already in her lap, pushing some of it over my mom?s knees and on to her shoes and socks.

The top of her head was adorned by a crown of white skin, with a long curtain of curly red hair that ran around it. With both her hands Jessica lifted my mom?s head to its natural position. As she did that, my mom?s face came into view in the mirror. Her eyes catching the top of her bald scalp and the clown like style that her hair was now in.

?Wow, without any hair on top of my head, my eyes and face really pop out, like its more emphasized.? Her words were catered with a smile as she was enjoying her shearing.

Jess clustered the side of my mom?s hair in her free hand and dragged the clippers with the huddled roots, severing the whole side of hair in several small passes of the clippers. The thick bushel of hair hung loosely in Jessica?s hand, before she dropped it to the side of her. The crop of hair bounced on the checked tile floor, it still hung together in one stalk from the still lingering pressure of Jessica?s hand.

I bent down and mauled the tail of hair in my hand, its weight was more than I expected. The length of it grossed over a foot and a little less than 12 inches as I held it up. My eyes gleamed over it, before I craned it over my mom?s black caped chest. I released it, just to watch it slide down the path of the cape. My mom laughed as I placed it over her right shoulder and released it. Like a log, it skimmed with impressive speed down the slanted cape and plowed into the swirled pile of red clippings of hair that had gathered and rest in my mother?s lap, sending most that were in its path over the gorge of her lap. The descending locks of hair bucketed on to her branching out feet, cluttering them in heaps of itchy hair.

?Nick, can you wipe the hair off my shoes and socks, it?s starting to itch.? She said as her attention was drawn to her annoying feet.

I bucketed my knees and lowered myself to reach her elevated feet. With one swipe of my hand, I shoved the building hair off her exposed socks and let it rest on the floor with the rest of the cut hair. As I was busy with that, Jessica finished the other side of my mom?s head; the bundle of hair came plunging to the floor as I watched it from my kneeling position in front of the chair. I rose to a standing pose, watching the final moments of the haircut from the front.

Jessica stood idled behind my mom, getting ready to take the last plate of hair that hung from the back of her head. Jessica flips the clippers over, so the blades are pointing down. Smoothly she lets them wheel down the back of my mom?s head reaching to her neck. The bond of strands was pushed on my mom?s slick vinyl shoulder. With its weight being supported by her shoulder and the back of the chair, the appendage of hair laid draped over her shoulder as more came to lay with it as Jessica made more swipes down the back of her head. As more hair came over in long pallets, the weight become to much and all of the gathered hair slid off her shoulder in a dive, only leaving several random strands on her chest and shoulder. The remaining hair on the opposite side just plunged to the floor with no hassle. And as those last hairs stopped on the floor, my mom?s baldhead emerged with beautiful results. Her face seemed to be more alive, her eyes more shiny and her mouth more kissable. And her silver hoop rings complemented her face, instead of just being covered by a wall of hair. With her hair on the floor, she was still as beautiful as she was before.

The humming of the clippers ended with a plastic snap and Jessica laid them on the counter for good. Her foot tapped the hydraulic lift, letting it float to the floor, but as it descended she turned the chair to the side in a swing that fluttered the black vinyl cape and tumbled some of the hair that remained on it. With a tear of Velcro, Jessica severed the collar into two pieces, but left the cape on. Grapping a white neck duster from a hook off the wall, she patted it against my mom?s bare neck, taking off every little stray hair. Pocketing the neck duster, Jessica takes hold of the cape again and sends a ripple through as she rises and lowers it, sending every piece of severed hair to bombard the floor. With the cape clean again, she swung it off my mom?s shoulders and lap and folded it back into a square.

With the restraint of the cape gone, my mom rose from the chair slowly, rubbing her hands over her freshly shaved head.

?So, how do I look??

?Beautiful and relaxed.? I say as I give her a hug.

?I am so glad I did this. We?re right about everything, its cooler, liberating, I feel like a whole new woman, though I just shaved my head. This has to be the best day of my life.? My mom said as she treaded in the sea of floating hair, her shoes and socks being covered in the curls where every she placed her feet. Bending over she picked up her hair-covered purse that laid next to the seat. She brushed her hanging hair off with a hand and plunges her other into the belly of and fished out a ten.

?Jessica, this is for doing such a good job.? She said as she handed the ten to her.

?Thanks and you look really good bald, so I am glad I was able to do it for you.? She uttered back in a friendly tone.

The two us, meet with the receptionist again and pay for the service that was done, the receptionist gives us a shocked look and stated, ?you two look kind of like twin, how cute.?

We gave her a smile and proceed out of the salon, leaving my mom?s curls on the floor to never bother her again.

?Ok, where?s the nearest beauty supply store, we?re buying a pair of clippers so I never have to live with my awful hair again.?

And all this was because a few words were muttered without any significance to them. .

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