I glared into the mirror, swearing under my breath. I can NOT afford to have a bad hair day today.
"I have traffic court at 8:30," I muttered as I stared down at the curling iron with disgust, "And a lunch date after that."
I threw down the curling iron. "I don't even know why I bother." I snatched my flat-iron out of the bottom drawer and started a new attack. By the time I finished, not a single hair was out of place, but I slipped a hair tie into my purse just in case.
I write like
Harry Harrison
Harry Harrison
I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!
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