I was looking in the hairdressers mirror at myself as she cut my hair.  Her friends turned up and sat behind me so I could see them reflected around me. A ring of faces in the mirror. I became aware of myself as resembling my mother.  Fragility was enveloping like an aura and I prickled with wonder at where did I fit in this earthly venture. Would I be crushed? with these oh so normal women around me.

They were discussing the violent offenders in the town.  How they ‘walked about free’.  Disgust rose taller than the trees.  Race was not mentioned. The elephant in the room.

She finished my hair and I looked awkwardly about before saying ‘see yuh’ and made my bid for fresh air.     

Mother mother you were a delicate soul but you had cheeky cheerful dad to hide behind.          

Chris Smith