The Mirror Doesn’t Lie

by Susan Monroe McGrath

“Hold still.”

Before I can protest, my sister yanks a hair from my scalp.

“Got it!” She holds the gleaming grey strand like a trophy. “Once you find the first grey hair, it’s all downhill.”

I retreat to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. Another grey hair. Sigh.

I mimic my sister, reaching up to pull the offending hair. It feels like it’s attached to my brain.

A drop of blood runs from my hairline, but I can’t stop. I pull harder.

My skin rips before the hair releases, opening my scalp like a zipper.

My sister was right.

Susan Monroe McGrath

Susan Monroe McGrath is a theatre graduate from a school of the arts who still can’t decide what she wants to be when she grows up. By night, she writes novels and short stories in a variety of genres. By day, she teaches science to high school students.

Website: susanmonroemcgrath.home.blog