Tag Archives: hair
The same faces, hair and even glasses mark them out as special. One wears bright red trousers and a fleece with green stars; the other pale green trousers and pink love hearts. Different souls reside within these identical bodies.
At first glance, it seems conventional. Cut short, a salt-and-pepper colouring. A turn of the head and suddenly a flash of brightest blue can be seen. On the right side of the fringe, it proclaims individuality and choice.
She throws her head back with laughter as she kicks out with her pink-clad legs. Her fine, blonde hair flies out behind her. Effortlessly, she expresses the joy of the dance.
He sits at his usual café table. Lank, sparse hair is plastered across his bald patch and his burly body is wrapped in a tattered, grey anorak. No-one gives him a second glance, yet inside lurks the soul of poet.
Tanned, chestnut-brown skin. Dyed, jet-black hair, piled messily on top of her head. Bangles and rings adorn her hands and arms. They jangle and click with every answered phone, every press on the keyboard. She laughs with the nurses, comfortable … Continue reading
A tiny terrier hares past the window, little legs pumping. Every windswept hair on his body expresses the simple joy of running.
Her hair is long and black. She has clipped a bright red flower to it, reminding me of a flamenco dancer. She teases it, absent-mindedly, with her fingers. Twisting the strands, she reveals glinting silver, a pinch of salt to … Continue reading
She leans forward to hear the tiny, tinny voice emerging from the far-off office. Her long, ink-black hair forms a rounded curtain. She sweeps one side up impatiently, tucks it expertly behind her ear. Her crowning glory is a nuisance … Continue reading