fringe hang, pony tail. space separating one strand from another, light invading space, an illumined patch. but obviously, perception (clarity, judgment) depends on vantage point, on closeness, on interest. a strand elegantly curls down, longer than its immediate surroundings, perhaps trying to assert its uniqueness. it remains un-dissimilar to its family, separable but not separate. head moves, back exposed. pretty, that's all.
**
the story: she decided to wear a purple wig, try out a variant persona, experiment with self-presentation. who would say what? a barrage of cliches awaited her: exaggerated demonstrations of surprise/shock and remarkably stale witticisms. not fluttered in the least, she decided to flaunt the purple persona for a little longer. people stopped caring (or trying to respond) soon enough and forgot about why they responded in the first place. they forgot about the real deal: nature beneath synthetic fluff.
somebody remembered. his memory reinforced by his obscure writings about the same, he did not really pay attention to the wig, but continued to remember (and virtually perceive) the fringe(s) and the ponytail. sometimes, however, she would remove the wig and let him see. pretty, that's all.
