Annabel
“This is just like when we were teenagers.” I grin up at Sarah, who scowls because I moved. She has a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of my hair in the other, and she’s thinning the edges like a professional hairstylist.
I’ve bleached my hair to a respectable housewife blond, and now, Sarah’s giving me a shoulder-length layered ‘do. “Remember when you shaved the side of my head and dyed the bangs purple?”
Sarah laughs. “We were so sure mom would freak out, but she didn’t say a word.”
“Yeah, I think she actually got the last laugh on that one.”
We both sober, grief from our mother’s death still present after two years.
My sister sifts her fingers through my hair. “This is pretty extreme.”
“You don’t think it looks good?”
“No... it’s just hard to think of my baby sist
