The mizzle from view has pitterpattered crescendo to a loud relentless pour. It seems that my hope of having a haircut is encumbered by this tenebrific sight. Perhaps I should spare no effort in braving the odds–risking getting wet–yet getting my hair cut, right? However, it’s now petering out. Yay! Hopes are rising, and so are my emotions. The rain is petering out! I’ve got to go for my haircut before it takes a turn for the worse.
Here am I in the salon, but the hairdresser is busy attending to a lady patron seated obliquely across me. They are kibitzing and tattling about daily woes, while I wait patiently as requested. What an ambivalence of feelings and thoughts!
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