Commentary:
It's important to mark meaningful moments in your life in some way. (She gets the reluctance to do it herself straight from me.)
Text summary: (click to open)
Day Seven.
It's a beautiful November day at the bunker. A few flecks of snow fall out of the cold, blue sky.
"Alright, it's time. Let's do this. Hand me the scissors."
"Annie, that's the fourth time you've said that in the 36 hours you've been trying to get yourself to give yourself a haircut. Do you want me to do it?"
"...Yes, please."
Barber's cape around her, Annie steels herself for a haircut. Deep breath.
"Alright," Aquila says, holding up the mechanical clippers, "let's figure out how one of these works."
"Don't say things like that!!"
Hair covers the checkerboard floor below Annie's barber seat as the haircut goes as planned -- when she's done, she looks at herself in the mirror, smiling, a tear in her eye, pleased both by the haircut and the change in direction it represents.
