As you gaze upon your chin length tresses, you run a slender hand through the silky river and ponder what to do next.
"You know, I'm not quite sure..." you start awkwardly and blush slightly."Why don't you go ahead and choose for me?" You finally muster after much thoughtful deliberation.
"Okay." she giggles, " If you insist!"
And with that being said, she opened a drawer near by and pulled out a long, impossibly black wooden brush with slightly wavy teeth at the end. The handle was richly carved with ivory flowers and vines.
"Why is it shaped like that?" you nervously ask.
"Oh you'll find out quite soon enough darling". And with a smile, she began her work anew.
You are quite cognizant in your chair, and you notice a change in her combing style.
Where it was once quick and precise, it now grows slow and measured, with the teeth tugging your hair outwards. After each pull it settles down lower and lower, and you feel its weight gently increasing.
You glance at yourself in the mirror, and are quite intrigued in the way she is going.
Your hair hangs down to your shoulders, and has changed shape and hue. It has darkened to a rich, mahogany brown, appears much thicker than before, and has developed a slight wave to it.
Curiously enough, you are nonplussed about the whole thing.
Indeed, it feels good, like how it should have been all along.
The hairdresser's slow brushing brings you into a relaxed sleep, and after several minutes you come to, awakening with a start as hair brushes the sides of your face.
It is now to the small of your back, delightful to the touch and is now incredibly thick and full-bodied as you gaze upon it.
Your hair's tone has darkened even more and now has a very dark brown shade. You're teeming with delight, but oddly this doesn't register outwardly as anything more than a small smirk.
You hold a tress as the hairdresser combs and you can feel it growing longer, thickening and widening. You place it in front of the light, the long dark strands dangling majestically from your pretty face, you see that the hue is now a silky pitch black, as though the night has been woven into your hair.
Closer examination of your face shows other thing have changed. Long, dark lashes tickle your face, some darker eye shadow rings them, and your black eyebrows are trimmed in a fashionable style.
A small smattering of freckles caresses your face, adding a hint of color to your slightly paler complexion.
Yet what draws your attention most are your eyes. They are now a striking steel gray, and glint with mystery and intrigue.
"You like it?" the hairdresser inquires.
You raise out of your chair, ebony tresses fanning over your shoulder blades, falling seductively over your chest, and finally stopping right above the waist. The whole affair is completed with perfectly straight black bangs that stop just above your eyebrows.
As though waking out of a waking dream, you come to and look at the hairdresser, blinking slowly.
"It is excellent, thank you," you reply in a calm, measured tone. You gracefully get up from the seat and exit the store , the black waves flowing behind like a majestic shadowy mane.