The Melancholy Of Anatomy: Stories - Plot & Excerpts
“Let me speak,” said the hair. She recognized it as one of her own. She had thought it was gone forever, but forever does not always last very long. “I am amazed to see a hair stand alone, upright in the air,” she said. “So speak.” The hair had a brassy light in its shaft. It stood and shone and swayed, and a wave ran up it and down and the frequency of the wave was such that a clear note was laid upon the air, and so the hair began to sing, and it sang these words: “Many a little makes a mickle, once bitten twice shy, time and tide wait for no man, a penny saved is a penny earned.” She assented to everything the hair said, and felt in her heart that the hair was right, and furthermore he cut a gallant figure, did slim, insinuating Mr. Hair. Would she step out with him? Why, yes. At the appointed hour the hair came back and it brought friends. Together they swayed and arched like a wave. Light struck deep into the glassy swells. One hair curled and bounced like spindrift above the rest.
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