Opie

Goat's Whiskers

1922

Magdalena decided that the true feeling of freedom was weightlessness. Being light, without extra weight to hold one's self down.

She stared at her reflection in the glinting, and slightly grimy light of the mirror. Her hair, long enough to brush her shoulder blades only an hour before, was now chopped short, curling at her ears and stopping at the nape of her neck.

Her head was so light without all that weight. She smiled vaguely at her reflection.

Now she looked absolutely nothing like herself.

Although that was her intention in beginning the entire matter, so she supposed that was a good thing. It was strange, seeing her face without the frame of curls around it as it had been since she was a little girl.

The change was a nice one.

Magdalena thought that it made her cheeks seem a little less round and child-like. That was what she hoped at least.

Carefully she brushed the small side sweep of short little bangs away from her eyes, peering a bit closer. There certainly wouldn't be any hiding with short hair. No more curtain to hide away from the world.

Suddenly Magdalena smiled. She rather liked this.

Someone tapped her shoulder, making Magdalena jump slightly. The hairdresser arched an eyebrow.

Magdalena blushed. "Oh, sorry."

Quickly she pulled a five dollar bill from her purse and gave it to the man. He took it and left, obviously done with her.

Magdalena heaved a small sigh. Well, it was what it was.

It wasn't as though there were any going back now.

She gave a slight pause, and then tucked her hat back on, over her newly short hair. Magdalena knew that she would have to get people's reaction sooner than later, but still, she wanted to avoid a comment at the very first time she stepped out onto the street.

Magdalena exhaled. All of a sudden, she wondered what in the world she had gotten herself into.

She set off, determined to stop thinking so much.

The door clingled closed behind her.

There was something about dressing one's body up that was ever so satisfying. Almost as if a beaded dress and bright lipstick could change who you were entirely.

Or at least, it made you feel different, even if it couldn't quite turn you into someone else.

Marisol pursed her lips together, rubbing on the red lipstick that was her favorite. Carefully she rubbed her lips over one another, smearing it over the entirety of her lips.

She paused, staring at her reflection. There was something about her that seemed almost...wicked, she decided.

Well, that worked. Her red lips twisted into a grin.

Magdalena was wandering. She knew that.

All around her, the downtown was awakening, lights of shops and bars and theaters beginning to glow. There was a chill in the air. A reminder of the coming winter.

Magdalena wished that she had a heavier jacket than the light one she had brought. She tucked her hat lower over her head.

There were all sorts of people coming out, onto the streets. As if the darkening sky had drawn them out.

Men dressed in their suits and hats, walking importantly to somewhere. Women, beautiful women, with their hair curled and waved, short dresses flashing with beads in the lights.