Two Rooms

The room had been recently painted pumpkin orange. Before, the room was gold, but that paint curled into locks which eventually gave way to bald patches. The new look lent the room a healthy glow. Anna chewed a bran muffin with her coffee. The paper on her lap didn’t interest her.

She simultaneously discovered two lost human hairs: one in her muffin, and one painted onto the wall. The muffin hair was blonde, while the other’s natural shade was not determinable. Anna wrapped the blonde wisp around her ring finger several times, tucking the ends under to secure it. She’d do nothing with the hair on the wall, tempting though it was; removing it would reveal a thread’s width of gold or a bald patch.

Anna had harvested most of Emmaline’s hair from her pillow, as her hair tended to release from its follicles in sleep. Neatly tied by red ribbon, this hair rested deep in the guest bedroom closet. The swept strands lay in fetal curls in the dustpan. After the burial, her first sweep yielded a dustpan full of Emmaline’s hair, still toddler-pale. Not knowing what to do with this unexpected hair, which could not be separated from dust, Anna left the room, and slammed the door.

When she painted Emmaline’s room, maybe pumpkin, she’d make sure nobody’s hair stuck to a wall. She did not want surprises. The thought came that it was better to find a blonde hair than a dark one in her muffin, in her anything, though this was senseless. Anna’s hair was deep brown. Shouldn’t she prefer finding dark to light, so she could believe it had fallen from her?