paint splatters Monday, November 3, 2003 11:14 p.m.
I watched the half moons and crescents of dark hair float softly to the ground, as the scissors continued on its journey, snip-snip, quietly, steadily, rhythmically.
It has been exactly two months since i cut my hair in a fit of madness. It doesn't seem to have grown much. vanity. it stays heaped on the green coarse tiles.

paint splatters Monday, November 3, 2003 10:29 p.m.
"Rain comes down through the alders
Its low conducive voices
Mutter about letdowns and erosions
And yet each drop recalls...
-- Seamus Heaney

Strangely, for once it hasn't rained today. Today being the third day of November, the advent of the monsoon month perhaps. Instead there is only the pale heat, the sweat of auburn and the descent of amber. Everything is in drooping, wilting earnest. The sky now hued pink, blood and orange. Night sounds all around, the birds have bid adieu.