250 words: a day in the life of hair

It’s like the horrible stickiness Joiners’ call rain, only inside. Although joiners run to get out of rain, they turn this on, and purposely go under it! Inside rain makes me heavy, and is turning the mess, into more of a mess! I am clinging on to the Joiner’s scalp for dear life, as my sisters and brothers; my loved ones are pulled and swept down the hole. The Dead ones from last night, who were pulled from their roots, are clinging to me too, making such a mess. The joiner puts this white, foamy, sweet smelling thing on us, and I sigh with relief. It’s like the smell of spring time, when the joiner is sitting down of course. I hate when she has to go for a dizziness ride on the round black thing. The grease is disappearing, but the tangles are staying. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream, for we’re going back under the rain again. We come out; nice and fresh, no white stuff anymore, just shininess, so much that I screw up where, if I were a Joiner, my eyes would be.  More white stuff comes, and stays, it does practically nothing. But after a few minutes, most of us hairs are free again! No longer tied up in each other! The Joiner’s hand reaches for THE BRUSH.  I hear the scream of all my kin as it pulls at us, taking my neighbour, Hair 1201289 down with it. I close my eyes and hope for the best.