Left Handed Scissors for Hairstylists

Of Lewis Carol and Cotton Candy

“Would you tell me please, which way I ought to go from here?” The mermaid didn’t reply. Then again, when I queried her, I hadn’t been expecting a response. Her ivory face, and aubergine sculpted scales were nothing more than an artists rendition of a mythical creature. Still, I liked to imagine that she had voice of her own, as beautiful and rich as the sea she lounged by. I visited her everyday, sometimes twice; just to keep myself from going insane. I laughed quietly at my own contradiction. Any passerby would might question my sanity when they witnessed me conversing with a statue. Elladora, as she was christened by the bronze name plate at the base of her tail, was my only true friend. In the past six months, I had traversed more towns, cities, and villages than I cared to recall. Unfortunately, my actions left precious little time to make acquaintances with the locals. Instead, I focused on my to-do list, which, for the moment, had become completely irrelevant.
The massive cone of spun sugar before me was evidence enough of that. It was an indulgence I rarely allowed myself to make. Living pay check to pay check, odd job to odd job, certainly didn’t do wonders for ones bank account. After my purchase, I was reduced to a mere twelve dollars and eighteen cents. It wasn’t much. In fact, I was currently at a loss as to how I pay for food in the coming days. For now though, I couldn’t find it within myself to fret about it.
Tonight was just one of those nights when worrying seemed frivolous. The quickly fading sunlight was streaking the sky with burnt hues of scarlet and indigo, giving a picturesque back drop to the scene below. Families were loading up their towels and heading for the touristy restaurants that dotted the shoreline, umbrellas and toddlers in tow. Up and down the board walk, tiny lights were beginning to flicker, heralding the start of another summer’s eve. Couples strolled arm in arm, hand in hand, toward the ferris wheel, pausing occasionally for a tender caress and serene smiles. Children were pulling grandparents towards the fudge and taffy stands that lined the walk. Some became tearful when their wishes were denied, while others faces were lit with the radiant smiles that can only come from the truly innocent. And I, sitting by my lonesome on a roughly hewn, sunny yellow bench, was perfectly content to relax, savor my treat, and watch the nightly drama as it began to unfurl.
Or, rather I was until a heavy scoop of chocolate ice cream landed in my lap with an unceremonious plop. I glanced up quickly, expecting to find a distraught child, and an apologetic mother. Instead, I found myself greeted by a pair of strikingly blue eyes. They were the kind you see only on film stairs and in paintings; the kind of eyes that leave you wondering, if in fact, they are real. They drew me in, pulled me deep, and caused me to fall hard for their owner on their color alone. It wasn’t until a deep voice cracked the silence that I realized how entirely awkward the situation was.
Reality kicked in as I found myself struggling to repress a giggle, as the stranger stammered out an apology. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you with that.” He removed a napkin from the pocket of his dress slacks, and began clumsily wiping away the quickly melting mess.
“No. No. It’s fine. I’ve got it.” He backed away, allowing my first real glimpse of his face. His hair was deep brown, and would have been clearly if not for its shorn length. The faintest of a five o’clock shadow covered his strong jaw, and that combined with the scar that ran the length of one cheek, gave him a rough look.
“Are you a tourist?”
“Something like that. Why?”
“Just you’re accent.” He laughed lightly, a sound that warmed my long abandoned heart. “You’re definitely not from Jersey.”
“Oh.” The entire conversation was making me nervous. His words were friendly enough, but I had never been one to make friends easily.
“Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get going.”
“Wait! Let me buy you dinner. Consider it a formal apology for my pitifully uncooridinated actions.” His words were accented with a small laugh, and gentle smile. I once again found myself inexplicably drawn to him, and against my better judgment agreed to his request.
“Alright, but we’ll have to find something here. My chocolate speckled attire is hardly appropriate for a restaurant.” I smiled shyly and rose from the bench, my cotton candy completely forgotten.

So, what did you think?

It’s very good.

Just some criticism…try to avoid writing "purple prose". That’s basically when you use way too much descriptive language, to the point where it seems like you’re trying too hard.

For example, if I had just gotten chocolate ice cream dumped on me, I wouldn’t say "my chocolate speckled attire is hardly appropriate for a restaurant". I would say "I doubt I’m dressed for a restaurant when I’m covered in chocolate" or something to that effect. I think you need to work on making dialogue more natural.

Then again, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe your character is extremely scholarly and his conversations and thoughts actually contain words like "aubergine" (which is an excellent word by the way, although I hadn’t heard of it before now).

It’s extremely well written despite the purple prose and some stiff dialogue. Keep writing!

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