Alien hair

Rita Hayworth in Lady from Shanghai - great hair!

A man I knew, a doctor, told me that I was going away. Turns out I’d been selected by aliens to go to their planet. I had no choice.

Once there, I was told that I’d have to have an abortion (their word for a hysterectomy). I realized they didn’t want any offspring, and also realized that their men must have similar anatomies to ours.

I was also told I had to have my hair cut. The aliens told me my hair was too wide.

I resisted the abortion, in fact, talked them out of it … but didn’t mind the haircut idea at all. Well, at first.

I was being trained at a very specific task. Would I have to learn their language? Yes. I figured that I would sit up late at night and study the manual (yes, there was one) so that I could excel and that would help me find a way back home. I was worried that no one knew where I’d gone. I wanted permission to call my mother, and they granted that. I wanted to make sure she knew how to pay my bills, and that I was OK.

The task I was being taught had something to do with surgery, which looked very different on this nameless planet. I was eager to return home and pass the boards so that I could be Dr. Smith.

Their planet was really quite a bit like ours. Somewhat more exotic. A lot of earth people were there, especially Asians. And they liked to sell the food and clothing of their people. I had a hard time understanding the food, even though, as some kind of token of his gratitude, my doctor took me and another familiar woman out to dinner to celebrate my kidnapping. It was a lovely restaurant called “Lines” but it was a fancier name. And it was elegant.

During the day I had some time to venture out. There were no cars, only dirt paths (even though there were billboards along them) but I was free to walk. One day I set out to find food. I’d been given money for groceries. Some coins looked like quarters, but were worth much more. I was heading out to a farm. I’d seen some local produce, and it was beautiful. The melons, the vegetables were nothing like at home.

On the way, I found a small grocery store. But the point of interest was a young woman who came up and insisted she cut my hair. I was willing! I gestured about the kind of cut, which she approved. And there it was. I felt reborn. I had to go to another planet to find the nerve to have short hair again.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Cheryl
    Feb 09, 2010 @ 08:29:33

    Susan, this is great! The story itself is very descriptive – I felt that I may have been kidnapped as an observer of your experience. Your creativity is beautiful. I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to read your work in the (seemingly total) fictional world. I love it! Two thumbs up. Or in an Olympic theme – 10, 10, 10!


  2. Susan
    Feb 09, 2010 @ 11:23:20

    Cheryl, so sorry to disappoint. This was a dream I had a couple of weeks ago. But you’re right … dreams are a kind of fiction, aren’t they? Stories we tell ourselves unconsciously?


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