Prompts for writing Hair like that
☆ The first time I saw him his locs were loose and long and the light caught the beads at the ends and I thought: this is the kind of person you write about. This is exactly that person.
☆ He had long twisted locs with beads at the ends, small dark beads that clicked softly when he moved, the sound arriving just before he did, a gentle announcement.
☆ He had twisted locs that took hours to make and I loved the knowledge of those hours. The sitting still, the careful hands, the patience required to make something that looked this effortlessly, permanently, undeniably him.
☆ He walked in and his locs fell over one shoulder and I forgot my own name for approximately four seconds.
☆ His long twisted locs were the first thing I described when someone asked me what he looked like--not his eyes, not his smile, not the way he held himself. His locs. The dark of them, the length, the beads, the way they moved. The whole of him, somehow, contained in that detail.
