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Pigtails

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Pigtails. I love pigtails. They bring a sense of youthful innocence to those who wear them. They almost always fall into perfect symmetry, which is another thing I love. They’re so beautiful, in fact, that I wonder why they're called pigtails. After all, they look nothing like the short, awkward curls on the backs of sow and swine.

Beauty stands out when you live in an overly crowded city of filth. I never cared much for being herded like livestock through teeming masses of dull, mindless people. Yet, here I was on a bustling city street which leads across a bridge. As I make my morning commute, I see her: the girl with the pigtails. She’s just standing there. Countless numbers of callous pedestrians walk by and push past her. But she just stands there.

I feel myself pulled, as if by some invisible rope, to walk towards her. I no longer care about getting to work on time or anything else for the rest of the day. I just want to be wherever she is. I make my way to her and stand silently behind her silky brown pigtails. More people push their way through the busy thoroughfare and swear at us for standing still in their ever-moving world. But it doesn't matter, for we are the only two people in it.

I remain behind pigtails, wishing for the courage to reveal myself to her undoubtedly beauteous face. Alas, all I can do is stand behind her and wait to see if she’ll move. If she does, I will surely be compelled to follow. I begin to think of what I’ll say to her, and what response she will give in return. Entire conversations between us seem to go on for minutes, then hours, even days. We stand there silently, ignoring the constant noise around us.

I picture her face. Eyes of sparkling sapphire sit above an adorable button nose, with rosy cheeks and ruby red lips beneath. It could only be the face of an angel on the other side of such divine pigtails. Her voice must have been just as sacred, because I only heard her speak as I stood immersed in the sweetest of daydreams. I knew her heart and soul had to be that of a poet, for no other reason than the fact that she dared to stand still while the rest of the world carelessly droned on in perpetual motion.

I was prepared to wait all day for her to move or to say something, just so that I could follow or respond and make my presence known. Unfortunately, a repulsive middle-aged man with a beer gut and sweat-stained clothing ruined our time together by accosting my beloved pigtails. I don’t even remember exactly what he said. I believe it had something to do with wanting to take a ride on some metaphorical object, ultimately meaning his penis. I knew I had to do something.

It’s truly amazing how people in a crowded city can take notice of two people standing still, and then instantly go back to their busy routine once movement is restored. In fact, when a city street is filled with enough half-conscious commuters, they may take a moment or two to notice a body fall lifeless to the ground.

It was a fluid motion for me. I pulled the knife from my back pocket with my left hand and gently stifled pigtails’ smooth lips with my right. Lunging forward, I drove the knife into the pervert’s jugular. I pulled it back out quickly and brought it carefully to her throat. “Don’t speak, my love. Their ears are unworthy.”

I pull her over to the edge of the bridge, so that we are both facing out towards the water. “Can you see, beloved? The way the water flows out for miles into the horizon? But if you look straight down, it’s clear enough to see your reflection.” I feel her struggling in my grasp. “Now, now love, our time together is short. We shouldn’t waste any of it arguing.”

I can hear the sirens behind us. Two cops emerge from their patrol car and approach us. “They’re trying to tear us apart, darling. No need to worry. I won’t let them.” They approach cautiously because they see our love as a “hostage situation” and they’re afraid I’m going to hurt my sweet pigtails. Little do they know, I would never do that. But I have no problem hurting them if they come between us.

They approach me, trying to “talk me down”, but I don’t much care for what they have to say. One of them gets too close, which leads me to believe he must be a rookie. He looks young enough to be one anyway. I know the only way we’ll be together is if I can get rid of these interlopers.

I drop the knife, just as I grab the cop’s gun and fire at the other cop, hitting him in the chest. The now unarmed officer cowers in fear as I shoot him in the head.

“Damn. They’d have radioed for backup. More are on their way. I can’t stop all of them.” I bring pigtails back over to the ledge. “Goodbye, my love. We’ll meet again in heaven, or maybe in hell. Goodbye, my love. Now fly, my love. I’ll be right behind you.”

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