Dying sun light streamed in through the half-open window. Her face was in semi darkness: forehead and eyes aglow in the amber rays, mouth plunged in the shadows. Her honey brown hair was held high in a bun with a flimsy contraption. Uncouth, some of them escaped the bind, encroaching the nape of her neck, her temples, her forehead. A light breeze blew outside. Some of the stray strands of her honey brown hair, caught in its flow, danced in disobedience. The light, caught in the dance resembled a quivering halo around her head. She looked at the mirror sitting in front of her. Her eyes were moist, her stare firm. She reached out towards the pair of scissors lying on the dresser with one hand. The steel was cold against her warm skin. With the other, she unclasped her hair. It unfurled itself all over her shoulders, golden where the sunlight caught it. She closed her eyes shut and reached for her hair...
Snip!
A curl fell to the spotless floor, concealed by the darkness.
Snip!
Now there were more.
Snip!
Snip!
Snip!
Snip!
It fell. It fell in abundance. It crowded the floor. She kept at it until her fingers ached, until the mark of steel was red against her thumb, until there was no more of it left.
It was the beginning of her fairy tale.
