when the storm clouds gather in xxxx's head, it can change the colour of her hair. when the hurricane rips apart her inner landscape, turning streets into toxic streams of debris, she'll strip our surroundings down to bare, shining sterility, the smiling picture of perfect order. right now our apartment is so clean it should be bleached holy white. xxxxy cut her hair off today and swept it into the trash. these rooms are so clear, so empty you could choke. you shiver to think of the chaos inside when she's made the outside so pure.
TwinB was describing her sister 2 years ago when she wrote this, but it probably could apply again today. I wish TwinA could have been satisfied with the drastic haircut. I wish she would have remembered to call me...but then like she said, she wasn't really in a thinking kind of mood. TwinB tried to reassure me with "they're more like beginner cuts really..."
I just didn't expect there to be so many*.
*about 3 dozen - picture a 4" wide lattice from hip to ankle
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