My hair is tired of putting up with me. One or two or three at a time, the fine strands are taking the plunge into the great unknown. Maybe being tethered to my head was too constraining; maybe they...

author's note: this is a freewrite typed on an iPhone on the train. No attempt has been made to filter, edit, or preserve even a tenuous grip on reality. If this sounds awful to you, please feel free...