this morning #457.

this morning, her health had dealt her a horrible hand & the struggle to get off the mattress was severe. she laid there beneath the ceiling fan, nervously twirling her frosted tips betwixt her fingers, wondering how she would get along without these long locks. yesterday had been a trip. a doctor. a diagnosis. a date. once the treatments began, it’d be wig city for her. while she wasn’t against wigs per se, she hated the thought of having what was essentially a prop atop her head. the fake feeling seemed diametrically opposed to how real things had recently become. today, she’d give her hair a full wash & celebrate its existence. later, she’d go online & start shopping for its replacement.