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Pretty, Pretty Hair
Pretty hair.
Long.
Long pretty hair.
Soft. Soft-looking, anyway. Can’t touch it. Want to, but can’t. Must ask first. Socially acceptable to ask before touching long silky hair.
Was that out loud?
No.
Yes.
Girl has silly look on her face. Eyebrows down. Mouth turned down. Frown. Confused. Yes, that was out loud. Not socially acceptable to say thoughts out loud.
Doctor looks at her. Talks to her. Says my name. Why does he say my name to girl with long, pretty hair? Crane against bars in little window, try to hear what they say. Not socially acceptable to eavesdrop, but not socially acceptable to exclude people either. Girl is pretty. Sweet-looking. She will include me. She will tell me why Doctor says my name.
Oops. That was out loud, too.
Need to focus. Smile. Smile for pretty-haired girl. Socially acceptable to smile when meeting new people.
But not in Japan.
Am I in Japan?
No. I’m in my room. My nice, soft room. My room’s not in Japan, though. Is it?
Smile. Just teeth. Look her in eyes. Pretty, pretty eyes. “Can I touch your hair?” Polite. Good. Very good. So good. Good girl, Ella. Being polite is very socially acceptable.
Girl frowns again. Pretty eyes go from me to Doctor. Doctor says something. Really should speak up. Not socially acceptable to mumble. Girl looks back at me. Blinks a lot. Wish she’d blink less. Eyes aren’t as pretty when they’re closed. “Later.” She says. Smiles. Not a big smile, though. Just a little one. A baby smile.
“Later.” I repeat, and she and Doctor leave hall. Pass through door I’m not allowed to go through.
So I wait. I wait for Later. Not socially acceptable to keep people waiting. But I don’t mind. I will wait. Wait for that hair.
That pretty, pretty hair.
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