Little bald girl

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The smell of the industrial revolution wafted through the air, smells like a hungry demon that constantly needs fed.
Little Heidi was an immigrant to the capital of British rule and the downsides already smashed her view on the world.
Her Grandmother died and was buried in the church which they attended graveyard.
Dry eyes were nonexistent and weeping flourished in such a place.
Her father resorted to gambling to numb the pain of loss.
How could such a man live.
Due to debts accumulating and her father not reporting to his duty, he was sent to a debtor’s prison as punishment.
Heidi was forced to work as a child laborer and she became desensitized to joy.
When beatings from her superior was too much, she ran away, never to return.
Cold and hungry, Heidi slummed her way through the streets of London.
“Why, Little girl”
Heidi looked at a man looking at her sneeringly.
“How much?”
“What?”
“You’re hair, ma’dam. A little blondie such as yourself shouldn’t go hungry tonight. How about it a little trim?”
He looked upon her deliciously as the little one thought it over.
“Please, sir. Could you really help me?”
“Why, my dear. Of course, I will. A meal for your hair”
“I-I”
“Deal?”
Heidi nodded reluctantly.
“Excellent”
He took her by the hand,”Follow me, my dear. Let’s get you cleaned up”
The streets lit Their path, as carriages passed them, Heidi felt even more small than she had been when she ran away.
A little shop, not to far up the alley felt warm, even at a distance.
The man unlocked the door with an ancient key and the warmth from the house comforted the two souls that entered.
The shop was made of wood and mortar with loose tiles on the roof that held together even in stormy weather.
The upstairs is unimportant and the first floor where the character was.
A single chair, rusted and ripped sat alone in front of a gloomy mirror.
A simple sight to behold.
The man dusted off the chair and patted the cushion.
Heidi timidly walked then sat in the chair.
The man, enjoying himself, wrapped a tattered cape around the nervous girl, it was patched sloppily, like foolish men did it.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
The man took hold of one of her braids and produced a pair of shears from his pocket.
With jagged strokes, the strands were severed with a sense of force applied.
The tail, in the man’s palm, dangled deadly as it swung back and fourth, like a pendulum in a grandfather clock.
The man gayly dropped the appendage and took up its twin.
Heidi shed seven tears for her glory as it was being stripped from her.
“Come now, my dear. A fresh meal awaits when I’m done. Just for you”
He kissed her cheek then continued his work.
Soon, the other braid was severed from her breed and dropped to the dead tiled floor.
The man became manic with glee, happily shearing the girl down.
The shears sailed a course of jagged patterns on Heidi’s head.
When all that was left was short hair, the man hid the shears and open a drawer.
A cranking device was produced and the man smiled.
He took Heidi’s shorn scalp and pressed it onto his chest, the little haired girl heard the uneven rhythm of his heart, a butt-bum accompanied the endless expanding of tissue.
Like a Frenchman, the man entered the stump of the neck and cranked the clippers upward, leaving a trail of nothingness in its wake.
Again and again, strips of Heidi’s femininity was slowly plowed away.
Away from the man’s chest, she could see his hysterics clearly as he finished that side.
The crown received the same cure for poverty and nothing felt right for Heidi anymore.
With shorter stalks dotting her head and her past displayed on her chest and floor, she was blank… just blank.
The man put away the new invention and produced a bowl.
He poured a cream into it and stirred with care.
With pleasure in his eyes, he flung a bristled cork over Heidi’s head, a demented painter with a flare for the simple joys in life.
Another metal resurfaced from a box made of Cedar.
From the chair, a leather belt was taken by the man, he sharpened the blade like a sword and with speed, he made it shine.
“Hold still, my dear, or we’ll both be cut raw”
She sat still fast as the man started stroking her head with a metal finger.
Her head was a field that was plowed by oxen and nothing more of her vanity lay on her head.
Wiping the knife clean, Heidi accepted her rebirth and thus she was grateful.
Taking a rag, the man wiped up the remnants of his work and looked at his prized head.
“I’m a man of my word, come along. Supper awaits”
Heidi blessed her reaper as she ran for the kitchen.
Baked bread and all kinds of food lay on the table and when it was done, Heidi gobbled it all up.
She lay in the man’s arms as a action of such indulgence.
Looking at his head, he felt feelings of a father for her.
“God, smite me if I ever should lay a hand on your blessed gift”

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