Chapter 2

On the way out, I was shown the entrance to the car park. Dee said she would express courier a ticket and parking pass to me at home on Monday, to be left in my box at the flats. All I needed now was to become like the other women, well dressed and blonde.

Putting up my Hair
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

When I was a young boy, I wore my hair long. My mother did not discourage me because she said that my hair looked lovely, which is what I thought too. But my father hated it. He was always telling me to get it cut and I always resisted. I suppose that says something about my relationship with my father – I felt that he was proud of my older brother, but not me. As far as I was concerned, that made his opinion questionable, so I always questioned him.