sleach

Excuse me, sir, but if you're talking to children, <i>talk to them.</i> What are you raising your hand for?

I... well...

(She uncontrollably sobs.)

No, you... naughty kids, you see, I was just disciplining her a little, just... it's just a little discipline.

You shouldn't be bothering over <i>us,</i> madam, really, I'm sorry about that... excuse us if you will, excuse us.

Alright, come on, Ema, we're off now.

Miss Saileach, I thought you'd up and gone already. Here's your clothes, and here's a little sack of flour we had left over. You take it, now.

That won't do... Mrs. Sheila, do you have enough food for yourself?

Course, course I do. My other half's eating soldier's meals on the front. It's just me eating dinner alone at home, fat chance I'll run out, don't you worry.

Thank you. Thank you, Miss.

Janie, how long have you been sitting here?

Sir! Tw—Two, maybe three hours?

What did you come so early for?

It's my first time raising the flag in the square today—I was so worked up, I couldn't sleep a wink last night, so eventually I imagined I'd just come here first thing and wait.

Oh? You certainly don't look like you spent all night awake.

...I had to find something to do while I was waiting for the sun to come up.

Grmph. Fine of you. You do look quite beaming.

You flatter me, Sir, really. It's a guard of honor's duty to mind their appearance!

At ease, guard of honor, at ease. The sun's rising now—go and see that the flag flies too.

Y—Yes, Sir.

Phew...

Combing her silken hair behind her ear in the dawn breeze, the girl straightens herself and makes for the flagpole stood in the center of the square, the flag held in her hands.

As it gracefully ascends, enthusiastic claps come from the masses that have waited for this since the wee hours.

In all the applause, the girl catches a few sunken mutters.

It's queer business. Did they really have to send our town of County Hillock a whole dedicated guard of honor, just to raise a flag? It's like we haven't even a say in the matter.

Heh, I wouldn't crawl out of bed at daft o'clock just to watch Lord Snooty hoist a flag up. At least seeing this warms your cockles, nah?

If it were up to me, they would've sent us a few film posters instead. One for each of us to stick on our walls and admire every day—<i>that's</i> how you raise a spirit or two.

Ah, shut, don't you start. A guard of honor's what it is—isn't having a sight for sore eyes enough? What are you so greedy for?

Looking through the crowd, the girl attempts to pick out who's talking.

But each and every one of their faces brims with a lauding smile, and she has to wonder if those voices weren't just the wind talking.

The morning gusts blow bitter cold through the square all asudden, the air digging under her collar.

In the breeze, she cannot help but give a shiver.

Get up! Janie, wakey-wakey!

Wil... what time is it?

Gone five, but we're only off at six. You've got time to plait your braids.

No... don't mind that, I'm leaving it today. We can head off straight away.

Er... Wil, do you know where the hairdresser's is in this town? I'm thinking of getting my hair cut.

Y—You what?!

If... If there's not one, I'm just as okay cutting it myself.

No, not that... of course there's a hairdresser's here, it's the last house at the end of the street. But, Janie... your hair's so nice. The <i>waste</i> of lopping it off.

It does tend to get in the way awfully at work, growing it out, see... Could you take over my shift tomorrow afternoon then?

Whaa—what's the hurry? You're not gonna wait a little longer?

You don't want me cutting my hair short?

I mean, it's fine, cut however short you feel... If it'll make work easier, plus I'm sure short hair would look just as fantastic on you.

...Thank you for that, Wil.

Excuse me, are you open right now?

Miss Saileach?

Do you know of me, sir?

Who wouldn't in this town?

What brings you here today? Hair treatment?

No, no, I'm here for a haircut.

A haircut, then... Take a seat, Miss Saileach, I'll fetch the scissors. If you need a sip of water, it's on the table...

Thank you, sir.

How short are you wanting it?

About to where everyone has it, please.

Okay... I'll be starting, then, Miss Saileach?

Mm...

In the mirror, the hairdresser lifts a lock of the girl's hair between his fingers. Blade crosses blade, and in one go, the hair falls away from his hand.

The girl stares at the lock, fallen to the floor in a pile, and empties her mind, waiting for the scissors by her ears to snip a second time.

She waits a good moment, and it doesn't come.

Sir?

...Eh?

Why did you stop cutting?

Miss Saileach, news doesn't get around our parts as well as it does yours. You're from some big old company, you've a million channels open to you versus us run-of-the-mill folk. I wanted to... to ask...

That's alright, sir. If you need it, then of course I'll help you. What did you want to inquire about?

It's... no, it's not like that, I just wanted to ask—you lot see something out of sorts about the town, don't you?

What makes you wonder that...?

Why don't you tell me, Miss Saileach? Here you've come to get a haircut.

It's—a haircut, is all it is, sir.

Miss Saileach, isn't this the way you've always looked? What makes you want your hair short all of a sudden now?

I just... only have so much time and energy, I—I can't afford to mind this sort of thing...

Something's about to happen, isn't it?

I—I haven't had any info of the sort suggest that. Everything seems... fine for the moment.

No... that's lies you're telling, Miss Saileach. Be honest with me. Those Sarkaz are soon to come storming this way, aren't they?

I suppose you think we'd all be crushed by the truth, so you're keeping quiet from us, zipping your lips. That's it, isn't it?

Sir, I haven't hidden a single thing from any of you!

Okay... if things aren't turning for the worse, then why are you coming here for a haircut?!

Sir... don't get so worked up, please, can you—can you calm down?

You show up at mine today out of nowhere, asking me to lop off your hair, and apparently the shorter the better—you sound to me like you plan to cark it and spend the whole next life not even giving a <i>shake</i> that hair grows on your head.

No matter how miserable it's ever gotten, you've—you've never up and said you'd get a haircut, right, so what's making you get one today?

...Sir...

I'm sorry, I...

I think I'd best find the time to come another day, sir.

Mrs. Sheila?

Miss Saileach? What brings you around?

Nothing, I just came because I wanted a haircut. Work's been busy lately, and I can't find the time to sort it all.

Wait... Mrs. Sheila, are you wearing lipstick today? No wonder you look like you've perked up. This red really suits you.

I...

Saileach's praise doesn't seem to bring any delight to the woman, who hastily uses her own hand to wipe the carmine off her lips.

She then lifts a corner of her hem, and rubs the remaining dye from the back of her hand.

Her sheer vigor chafes the skin of her hand raw, yet the color just won't come fully clean.

Mrs. Sheila, wh—what are you...?

No, I was just going silly—as if this is any sort of time to be bringing out lipstick—when we've got even people living respectable lives like you losing the will to—... *sigh* This is awful.

If you'll... Miss Saileach, you'd better go on back to work, I'll—I'll just get myself home.

Mrs. Sheila...

Hm? Janie, weren't you going for a haircut? I was looking forward to seeing your new style, you know?

I—I booked a new time with the hairdresser's. I'll go back in a few days.

Good thing they didn't trim you, really, or you'd be hard-pressed putting this on.

A paper flower? Did you fold this?

As if I'd have hands that skillful. No, a little girl brought it by—she said she hoped you'd like it.