Self Rinse #15

The rain illuminated by the light and softened by the awning came down like tinsel that broke into shorts of electricity when the rain bounced off each other. Another night at the salon, I was just killing time between clients; standing between the sparks of rain outside and the strong smell of Ammonium Thyoglycate. I reached into the brass mailbox and pulled out a cigarette. We all smoked and this was our private stash; the gold shoebox attached to the red brick that has now blackened like a bruise from the pounding of the rain. Inside people were being transformed by the magic that lay just below our fingertips, Ladies going through divorces were carved into new and improved self-esteem with scissors and clippers as shiny as lucky silver coins and wedding bands. The sound of music fades with conversations of misfortunes of neighbors, upcoming baby showers, In-laws, new boyfriends and cookie recipes.