Charlene lifted the razor off the bathroom sink, plugged it in, and raised it.
She hesitated only for a moment. She looked at herself in the mirror, her red-brown hair flowing down her shoulders. She smiled, just a little sad, then got to work.
The razor buzzed. The first cut went up the side of her head. Her locks fell into the sink and curled, nestling in to a new home. She went up again, and again, and again, making sure she got it all, slowly moving around the back.
Charlene moved the razor to the other side and did the same. By now, her hair was forming a nice pillow. As she cut, her head became bald on both sides, the centre a potential mohawk, if she felt like investing in hair gel.
She started at the back, buzzing straight up. It was awkward, but she made it all the way to her forehead. She went over it a few times, making sure it was all gone.
Charlene looked at herself in the mirror, her now-bald head a shapely egg. Thank God, she thought. If it had looked weird, I’d be screwed.
She put the razor away and cleaned up her hair, now filling most of the compost bag. So long, hair, she thought. See you in a few years.