I look down to see a hair curled along the ground. As I bend down to get a better view, the hair flusters and folds. I can see neither an end nor a beginning.
Taking its gage between my fingers, I realize the hair is born of my chin, still attached.
Posted in broadcasting, coughing, disembodiment, embodiment, hair on February 12, 2008|
I look down to see a hair curled along the ground. As I bend down to get a better view, the hair flusters and folds. I can see neither an end nor a beginning.
Taking its gage between my fingers, I realize the hair is born of my chin, still attached.