The sunshine nearly blinded Sally as she stepped out onto her front porch. A wasp hovered above her unsuspecting head and began explaining its master plan to the hydrangeas.
The neighborhood seemed to burst with life this morning, as if carrying some secret that only nature could understand -- and she wasn't privvy to. A sudden wash of joy raised a smile in her, excited at the mystery of so beautiful a secret.
She had been raised most of her life in the lush green that was the Pacific West Coast. Moving north into Canada had only intensified the dripping wet sensuality of a warm summer day.
The market at Granville Island had profferred some fresh salmon at a bargain price, along with some cider brewed in the Okanagan. As she had crossed the street to check the french bakery she'd been distracted by a beautiful young woman busking with her violin, and the music was still monopolizing her mind as she sipped her tea on the porch.
The busker had obviously been classically trained, but her outward appearance -- mohawk, nosering, tattoos -- would never have given away her priviledged upbringing.
Sally toyed with the idea of taking up an instrument, or maybe just piercing her nose, and settled for grabbing the scissors and cutting a couple inches off her hair. Unfortunately in that sudden burst of creativity her aim had missed, and her hair was now skewed at a weird angle that made her look like she was perpetually hanging her head to one side. Clinging desperately to the elation she'd been feeling only moments before, she ran inside to get a mirror and right her wrongs.
She steeled herself from cutting though, somehow she liked this new off-kilter look -- especially after a life that had been measured by control. The morning's joy crept back as she started swaggering back and forth, tossing the half of her hair that was still long enough to toss and making sexy faces at the mirror.
It was then that her roommate walked in. Jane's face contorted into her "what an idiot you are" look, as she spat out: " So you think that's gonna attract some Tom, Dick or Harry?"
She was struck dumb by the venom (she didn't know where it came from, she never knew where it came from) but Jane's tourretic bouts of hate were normal.
Today was the last straw: Sally took action with the scissors, deftly crossing the room and clipping Jane's locks to her scalp in one motion .