The Living

Looking blankly in the mirror I see myself, pale and thin, my long luscious soft black curls neatly tucked behind my ears. I turn to my left getting a visual on the bathroom, black tiles against white benches, toilet, shower and bath. I turn back at myself and as I look at myself I realise that this ridiculous idea really is ridiculous. I would have to cover my hair with a wig. As I look up at my hair I think how that would be possible as the long black curls so thick and curly would be almost impossible. I turn to my right, and neatly placed in the bath is my costume, my disguise, my way of living another life. I wrap my stomach with material meant for sprains and injury to hide my bust. I get dressed in long jeans and a long sleeve top to try to conceal most of my body from anyone even trying to get a clue of discovering who I am. I search the cupboards in front of me for something, anything to help me put my wig on. In the bottom draw I come across a straightener and immediately turn it on and begin to work. Once I have finished I see my hair looking longer then I have ever seen, from my mens clothes I look less like a girl then ever.

Looking blankly in the mirror I see myself, pale and thin, my long luscious soft black curls neatly tucked behind my ears. I turn to my left getting a visual on the bathroom, black tiles against white benches, toilet, shower and bath. I turn back at myself and as I look at myself I realise that this ridiculous idea really is ridiculous. I would have to cover my hair with a wig. As I look up at my hair I think how that would be possible as the long black curls so thick and curly would be almost impossible. I turn to my right, and neatly placed in the bath is my costume, my disguise, my way of living another life. I wrap my stomach with material meant for sprains and injury to hide my bust. I get dressed in long jeans and a long sleeve top to try to conceal most of my body from anyone even trying to get a clue of