somewhere in the background
music from a radio
burbles away - I tune out
to the shadows of the hairdressers actionsprojected onto the white walls below the mirror
playing out in front of me
the snip of the scissors flying around my head
the lovely caress of the comb on my scalp
the light tugging of my hair as the hairdresser prepares for the next snip
the shops lights shine brightly on the chrome foot rest of the chair
as the sound of the rain enters the shop through the open front door
cars whoosh pass
splashing through puddles
as the buzz of the trimmer
on the hard-to-get-to bits
around the back of my neck
send shivers down my back
there are noises from the seats where the queue is waiting
out of my vision
it sounds like a young child
eager to have his trim
bringing back memories of my childhood hair cuts
sat on the uncomfortable wooden bar the hairdresser put across the arms of his chair especially for children
raising you up so he wouldn't have to bend down
there I was all wrapped in the oversized cape they cover you with
sat, worrying I might loose an ear with all that snippping
sharp scissors darting here and there at speed - snip, snip, snip!
worried that my classmates will laugh at me when they see my haircut
wondering if he was ever going to stop snipping!
parents looking on smiling with approval
saying how smart I looked - I never thought so
I never liked smart - and I still don't!
