Bea 8217 s beast stories 3
It was in the middle of the day. I was seated at a vanity in Helen’s bedroom brushing my hair. I hadn’t had a good chance to brush it out since arriving, and the brisk strokes tugging at my scalp felt good. My hair was longer than it had been in years, the thick brown tresses reaching down to just below my shoulder blades. It seemed like an awful lot of hair as I watched it move with my head in the mirror. I picked the mass up with both hands and held it atop my head for an...