She struts into the hair salon, her mouth filled with a rotten egg of gossip, unshelled, filled with decay. As soon as she sits down she bites into the shell, and the stink of her lies fills the air, its goo dripping down her chin. With her new haircut she exits, leaving behind the putrid evidence that she’s as corrupt as the egg of lies she spread.
-Brenda Sutton Rose
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