Monday, December 2, 2013

i have nothing to say

He didn’t answer but reached over and put his hand at the root of my hair and ran his fingers out slowly to the tip ends like a comb. A little electric shock flared through me and I sat quite still. Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy and peaceful.

-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Pg. 70

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