I first saw her waiting for the red line. She was about 5 and a half, in a light colored dress, well shaped, young, and pretty. But what drew my eye to here was her hair. She had hair, lots and lots of hair. It was dark, almost black with lighter highlights, and in a larger curl then your typical afro; somewhere in between afro and dreadlocks is the best I can describe it. The strands were long, flowing in clumps over 12 inches from her head, which means the individual hair must have been twice that long. We’re talking BIG hair here.
Her hair draped over her head like a dress from the Corps du Ballot. The top almost like a shield-cone volcano in shape, a long low cone of hair, like a large brown coolie hat. The hair was wider than her shoulders, and must have weighted as much as a baby.
When she sat down opposite me, her hair left this lovely space for her heart-shaped face to look out of. After a while I noticed she was looking for someone. She sat facing straight ahead, but kept turning side wise with only her eyes, looking for someone else on the platform. That’s when I realized how big her hair was. She kept using it like a bush growing over her head which she could hide in with only her face showing out the opening. Like a huge hat that also had it’s own partial veil.
That hair, really was something.