| MOP HEAD - Part 6 by The Bard |
| As Mark had become an expert in caring for my hair I asked him to carry out the trim. By this stage my hair had become a more private, personal matter between us and it seemed almost an intrusion to allow anyone else to do it. With pressure of work it was two or three weeks time before we had a clear day to carry out the cut. First of all, I washed my hair early in the morning allowing it to dry naturally in the sunlight during the day. It was a warm day, and by late afternoon, my hair was already dry. We had an early supper on our roof garden. Unusually, I wore my hair loose during the meal. It shone with a golden brilliance in the early evening sunlight. We had placed a blanket on the floor beneath my chair to keep my hair off the ground as I sat and ate my meal. As I looked at my hair, spread out in a two-foot long fan on the floor beneath my chair, I began to have some doubts. After supper we went back into the apartment. In front of our full-length bedroom mirror, Mark brushed my hair to a brilliant shine. He took his time, savouring every stroke, smoothing behind with his other hand. His seemed mesmerised. I could see he was not looking forward to carrying out the deed. Eventually I handed him our large pair of hairdressing scissors and stood up on chair to make his job easier. We had agreed to cut around twelve inches off � which would leave my hair a little above mid calf length. I turned my head and looked at myself in the mirror, and almost gasped at the beauty of my hair. Mark had brushed it to an incredible golden sheen. The sunlight through the bedroom window glistened on the ripples that fell almost the full length of my body. Clearly the same thought passed through Mark�s mind. �I can�t do it�, he whispered. He put the scissors down, carried me to the bed and we made the most wonderful love. As on my wedding day, I felt the most loved, treasured and appreciated woman in the world. The scissor remained lying on the dressing table as we fell into a deep contented sleep. And that was the last that was ever spoken about trims and cuts. In the weeks running up to the following Christmas, I teased Mark by not allowing him to see my hair loose. I drove him mad by walking around the apartment with my hair up, or in looped braids. I told him he could see it loose on Christmas Day if he behaved himself. He enjoyed the fun, even though he didn�t quite understand what I was up to. On Christmas morning, while he prepared our breakfast, I called him into our bedroom. �I have an extra present for you!� I stood in the room with my hair is a loose bun held by a pair of chopsticks. As he stood there, I turned my back to him and removed the sticks. My hair tumbled down my body in golden waves. As I shook it out I told Mark to look closely. His gaze followed down the length of my hair to the floor, where the ends were resting very slightly but very definitely on the ground. �I first noticed a few weeks ago � I was keeping it a secret!� Mark was clearly thrilled. He spend ages just looking and staring before we finally collapsed in each others arms back into bed. Needless to say, the breakfast went cold. |