The box of head lice solution matched her pink flannel pyjama bottoms. Embarrassed to be seen in public, her hair hung dejectedly in dark, wet strings about her head. She shuffled across the parking lot into a waiting SUV, the soles of her white socks darkening with every step. She was a woman who had given up on Life.
But not lice.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
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1 comment:
i'll take that on face value and say that it sounds like me.
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