“You really want me to do this? I can barely see,” Laura asked. Macular degeneration had stolen most of her central vision.
“Yes.” The client’s voice was strange and slithery, like her hair.
When Laura shampooed her hair, the client hissed.
The curling iron was worse. Something bit her finger.
“What was that? Did you see?”
Laura twisted stray strands around the bun. It took a lot of hairspray to make them stay put. Her arm felt hard as stone.
The client got up. “Thanks. Sorry about the arm.”
She heard a hissing laugh as the client left.
Author’s Note: Even Gorgons need hairdressers.