This morning the Sink Hair Fairy struck again. Twice in one week. Strands that flew from my head mid-blow-dry once more landed on and clung to the damp sink basin in the shape of a word, spelled out in cursive: "Love." I kid you not. The L was capitalized and had both the top and bottom loop perfectly formed. That seems like a particularly difficult letter for a random gust of synthetically generated hot air to choreograph with a dislodged follicle filament. You know what I'm saying?
I know it sounds wacky. And, hey, it's admittedly no Virgin Mary on a Wheat Thin, but something curious is happening in my humble apartment loo and I don't know what to make of it. First Joy, now Love. If I see Peace written in that there sink come mornin', I may have to alert the local media. And call in paramedics for resuscitation.
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