The hairdresser threw a brown cloak on. She told her assistant, “I’ll be out all day.”
In bustled the Queen’s maid. “Glad to find you’re free. Her majesty would like to see you.”
“But…”
“For tonight’s ball. Something simple, elegant.”
“I can’t. You see, my niece is imprisoned in a tower. I do her hair on Saturdays.”
”I’ve heard a lot of excuses. This takes the prize, though.”
The hairdresser felt terrible.
Coco cleared her throat. “I’ll do your niece’s hair.”
The hairdresser said, “You’re not afraid of the Enchanted Woods?”
”Give me a chance. There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
(To be continued)
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 