SAMSON, DELILAH AND THE OTHER WOMAN – project “52”

30 April 2015

Standing behind him, she was resting her hands on his hair and impulsively patting the long blond locks that were streaming down his shoulders.  He was staring in her face through the big barber’s mirror.  His pupils – so wide open, one can’t understand if he was scared, angry or excited.
His girlfriend was pacing up and down the room shooting requests and shouting instructions to the Other one how short the hair has to be cut.  It was all in vain – hardly heard and hardly noticed by those two.  They were just being quiet, looking silently in each other’s eyes, ricocheting intense stares through the mirror as if they were saying something.  No word came out of their mouth.  He was just sitting on the barber’s chair with his long strawberry blond hair scattered over his broad shoulders, screaming at her with his blue eye.
The voice of his shouting girlfriend was echoing away in the fog of his mind.  He wanted to talk to the Other one.  But all he could bring himself to do was to gawk at her hands slowly handling his hair, not touching the scissors.
Looking at the mirror all she could think was “Why me? Couldn’t anybody else cut your hair?”, but he wasn’t going to talk or say something.
Another holler from the back of the room startled her.  This time she grabbed the shears and patted the mane for one last time.  His hand reached for hers while still touching him and held it pressed firm on his head.
“Why would you cut this beautiful long hair?” she asked with a coarse voice as he pressed his hand on hers.
“That is the only way I can get you to caress me”, he whispered.
“Todaaaay!  Chop!  Chop!” his girlfriend was getting increasingly frustrated.
With heavy heart she took few slow breaths and started cutting.
“If cutting man’s mane is to surrender his power, I prefer to give it to you”, he smiled and closed his eyes delighted.
His girlfriend was on the phone at the back of the room planning their engagement.
He was sitting in the barber’s chair, indulging in every touch of hands of the Other one and planning a new beginning.  A different one... 



Till next surrender,
Sophia
© 2015 - sophia terra~ziva all rights reserved

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