During French, Dorrie felt a slight pull on her head. And then heard the sound of slicing. Jamie refused to give the plait back. For weeks, Dorrie would see the swish as her hair passed. She’d lift her hand up to her head automatically, like searching for an amputated limb.
5 comments:
Beryl hadn't set foot in a club since, well, last time.
The forest of writhing trunks, arms jabbing towards the glitter balls suddenly halted. The music carried on throbbing. People began looking, clapping, slowly. Surely lightning wouldn't strike twice? She stood, petrified, before wrapping her legs around the nearest pole.
This happened to my wife. The teacher put the plait into a brown paper bag for her to take home at the end of the school day. For real!!
Lovely, Kathryn - written from personal experience I hope?
And great story, Douglas. Better than any fiction!
Only in my fantasies, Sarah! I really don't have the ....well, any of it really!
Probably best! Otherwise we might have some - er- more interesting ex-Sussex students stories!
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