100 word stories. Post all you like, maybe we'll dip in and use yours?
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Post by Scattercat » Sun May 08, 2011 7:39 am

Her hair is an endless river of night, a glossy, star-flecked black. It fills the forest behind her, a record of every step she has ever taken. It snags on branches and tangles in brambles. Birds nest in it. Rivulets break away, flowing into rabbit burrows and fox dens, tributary strands that gradually dwindle. She stands here, one foot lifted, waiting for her hair to grow long enough for her to place it down and raise the other.

I stand before her with my silver shears. Her eyes are wide, brimming with tears.

I wish I knew what to do.

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Mr. Tweedy
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Re: Maidenhair

Post by Mr. Tweedy » Mon May 09, 2011 3:30 am

Advertise in this space!

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Re: Maidenhair

Post by strawman » Mon May 09, 2011 3:33 am

Very nice. Of such strands do Clotho and Atropo spin and snip.
The silver shears are for Lachesis.
It's only fair!
Never judge anyone until you have biopsied their brain.

"Be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle."
Known Some Call Is Air Am
Non sum qualis eram = "I am not who I will be"

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