A Letter From the Editor - Nolan Nightingale

My family calls me the Brillo pad. I have thick, curly hair that tends to get out of control if unattended for more than two and a half weeks. When I’m back home, I go and see my barber. He’s a grumpy old man who lets two massive huskies roam the shop while rock music plays off scratched CDs on a broken stereo. That man gives the best damn haircut and shave in the game. Obviously, I have not been able to visit him during Quarantine. And my hair is real out of hand.

“Ow! Loo! Wet the hair first or you’re pretty much yanking it out,” I yell at my sister while she takes scissors to my head. I’m sitting in a broken chair in the middle of an empty jacuzzi-style bathtub. She’s leaning over the edge of the tub to get to my head.

“It’s not my fault you’ve got pubes for hair,” Loo yells back.

“Jeez, Delaney. His hair looks awful,” my brother Dylan says, sitting on the toilet, disinterestedly looking at his phone.

“It’s not done!” she screeches. I don’t even wanna look in the mirror to see. This was a bad idea. I should have just let my hair keep growing. Sure, I would have looked like an escaped member of the Mansons by the end of all this...but it would be better than whatever’s currently happening. Loo tries to cut dry hair again and yanks on my head. I let out a yelp.

“Let me take over,” Dylan sighs. He walks out of the bathroom and comes back with the spray bottle we use to water plants, points it at my head, and just keeps pulling that trigger until my hair is dripping everywhere. He then picks up a buzz cutter and takes two passes right across my hairline. His eyes go wide. “Oh no,” he mouths. Loo is doubled over laughing at this point.

“What’s wrong? Fix it! Fix it!” I panic. Loo takes the buzzer away from Dylan.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it.”

Bzzzz

“I’ll go get Dad.”

Loo gets out of that room like she’s The Roadrunner. Dylan is still there with me. He grabs a mirror and sheepishly hands it over to me. My hair doesn’t look that bad. I don’t know what they-I HAVE A GIANT BALD SPOT ON MY HEAD! A giant, bald rectangle right in the middle. Fuck. I can’t wait for Quarantine to end.

Nolan Nightingale

Editor for Quarantine Literary