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She flicked her braid over her shoulder and lined the sight up with the target, bout 50 yards away. The rifle chilled her hands, and the thought of what it could really do to something other than a target made her shudder involuntarily.
By Kristina on 10.19.2013
briad hair, tight pigtails, bunches hated them, embarrassing, crying sad, going to gym, pulling on my head, go away, dont embarrass me leave me alone I am grown not a baby not a child, childs shoes, no style, old fashined yuk
By missingtrees on 10.19.2013
The girl looked at her mom as she began to braid her hair. It always was slightly painful when she did it but in the end, she looked beautiful and that was what mattered. Her mothers fingers pulled and twisted and worked until all of her raven black hair was pulled straight back against her head, she admired herself in the mirror. She was stunning.
By Sil on 10.19.2013
He watched admiringly as she braided her hair, the moon shining on her pale skin. He’d told her before he left that he wouldn’t forget how beautiful she was, but in this moment, his memories had failed him. She was more beautiful then he could have ever imagined.
By Brandon Adams URL on 10.19.2013
I love braids. Any which way they twist and turn. They are elegant. Cute. Stylish. Any way you put them they work in your favor. Okay I’m done. I can’t write. Sorry bro.
By Penis on 10.19.2013
Hair grows slowly and everyone asks “how long did it take to grow that much?” Or the equally popular “how long is it when it’s not in the braid?”
By MaybeMe on 10.19.2013
He braided my hair, it felt wonderful, his fingers getting tangled in my long blonde locks, We laughed together, and I felt great, I wondered when we might get this chance to do something again, he was leaving you see, to go overseas and fight an enemy, I didn’t understand it, but he did.
By Alexander Graham on 10.19.2013
She took one strand after another. Sunset coloured, the texture of pure silk. As she laid them over another she wondered, was he thinking the same way? Would they ever speak again? “Ouch!” Mary complained.
By Corinne Child on 10.19.2013
I meticulously braided her hair down the side of her head, thinking about the time we have left. Of course she doesn’t know about the plan. I hope that she will one day see that I was correct in my decisions, but now it is too late.
By Samantha M on 10.19.2013
I could feel it in the back of my head. It lined my scalp. I loved the tightness of it, the stiffness of it, the way it pieced all my hair together in one fell swoop. My sister braids my hair. I don’t tip her; I just tell her to braid, and she braids. I hand her the tie, and then the braid officially comes to life.
By Kayla Pongrac on 10.19.2013
A long, thick braid flowing down her back, the thing she was most known for.
By Lindsay Belle on 10.19.2013
The two girls giggled.
“Her braid is so ugly,” said one.
“I know. Who did it, her mom?”
They said it just loudly enough so Tammy would hear.
By Dtnixon on 10.19.2013
“‘But Mamma, I don’t want my hair in a braid today.’ This was usually said when I was a young girl. She’d always reply ‘Doesn’t matter. Your hair look nice this way.’ At that time I didn’t understand that braids were easier on my mom. It saved her money by having to buy less hair products and more food. It also let her work less overtime and come home. At that time, I didn’t know a braid had such a big impact.” I finished telling my short story to my friends. Ren got up, grabbed a newspaper, rolled it up, and smacked me in the head. “Why are you telling us this? ” he said . “Because she gave me these fabulous braids today!” I replied with a smile on my face. That earned me another smack in the head.
By Coolio is Cool on 10.19.2013
She tied her hair into a braid, only to have her brother chop it off in one rough stroke with a sharpened kitchen knife. They placed the hair in a plastic bag and left it on the doorstep of the old doctor, who screeched at the sight of his betrothed’s “gift,” along with the note left beside it:
Find another one to wash your calloused feet. I am long gone.
By Belinda Roddie URL on 10.19.2013
the braid uses white. she usually make the husband marry her. she probably isnt that cool. she will ruin the mans life, will take all his money and the kids they have away. and stuff.
By ayres on 10.19.2013
Her hair was a golden braid
maiden with the flaxen hair
combed her tresses
in the afternoon sun
and then, wound undone
the disappearing length.
By fz URL on 10.19.2013
I wore braids alot when i was little. I wish i could be that young again, that innocent. Pig tails braids were the thing back then and i just wish i could wear them again. Braids are a symbol of childhood and i wish i could take mine back. It has been stolen from me and i just wish i could go back to the time when i could wear my hair in braids.
By Elise URL on 10.19.2013
I wore braids a lot when i was little. Pig tails braids were the thing back then and i just wish i could wear them again. Braids are a symbol of childhood and i wish i could take mine back. It has been stolen from me and i just wish i could go back to the time when i could wear my hair in braids.
I never had them, and never wanted them. Sometimes I want silky locks falling around my face, something to tuck behind my ear, but never braids. They remind me of Pippi Longstocking, and much as I love her, I don’t want to look like her.
By LM Noon on 10.19.2013
I twirled my braid with my free hand, my mind wandering as the teacher lectured on and on about the correct ways to greet royalty. Boring. My name pulled me out of my reverie.
“Bliss? Bliss, there is a messenger here for you.”
My eyes wandered to the boy standing at the door, and they widened.
I made up my braid struggling with the intricacy of the hairs trying to get it just right and perfect for the day. I have always hated wearing braids, I grew up with this hairstyle now I can’t stand even seeing someone else wearing their hair like a braid.
By Gilltyascharged on 10.19.2013
Her hair was dangling down her back in a twisty anomaly. I had never seen hair confined in such a manner. Or even hair that long. M own hair was cropped close to my head and bleached of color.
By Mary on 10.19.2013
Her braid was long, dark, and tangled. She’d been walking through the forest for at least 6 hours now, and her stomach rumbling was disrupting her hunt. Finding food was scarce and hard enough as it already was, but the hunger fought against her game. She sighed, sitting herself down against a fallen log, before setting down her bow and letting her head fall into her hands. She was defeated, something that never happened to her.
By Anonymous on 10.19.2013
Her braid fell over her shoulder, dipping carelessly into the water in the bowl. She splashed her face with the frigid water and shivered as icy drops slipped over her chin and down her neck. She pushed her braid back onto her back.
By Kristin URL on 10.19.2013
The little girl pleaded with her mother, “Mommy, please braid my hair!”. The mother sighed and put down the book that she was currently reading and moved over to her crying daughter. “You never know when it might be your last chance to do something like this” she thought to herself, “You might as well appreciate what you have while you have it”
She quickly moved to the girl and began moving her thick hair through her fragile fingers,
“Thank you mommy!”
By Kayla Jones on 10.19.2013
My mother’s thick fingers comb coarsely through my hair while she talks. It is the end of the day. It is braiding time. Her hands, callused and tan from hours of pruning Mr. White House’s roses, tug at the roots of my hair like she is grinding her way into my scalp. I am eleven, skinny, squished like a button between her big leathery knees as she separates my tresses into three, reprimanding me for not washing behind my ears as she does so. You wanta see mold, little missus? Ay, I raised ye to be clean. As she weaves, I close my eyes imagine I am a princess, a your highness living in a faraway land, with maids on hand to scrub the floor at my feet and plait my unruly copper mane into perfection. Then my eyes pop open and I cross myself six times, because mothers have eyes in the backs of their hearts and god knows she ain’t no maid to her own children, and besides, gluttony is a sin.
By Annie on 10.19.2013
I watched her fingers move in patterns I could not fathom, producing intricate braids along this woman’s hair that looked as natural as her hair did before, as if she was born into the arms of the most talented weaver, her head the loom of spun gold.
By Samantha on 10.19.2013
With nimble fingers, I braided my hair into a fish tail and flicked it to the front of my right shoulder with an exasperated sigh at how tired I was to even do my hair as I wanted to this morning.
By Christina Chandy on 10.19.2013
I remember this cinnamon pretzel from when I was younger; it was memorable, and delicious. It was a braided pretzel. It was the only good part of my shitty Arizona childhood. The next place I moved to was New York, where I had my first hot dog from a truck outside, that was magical.
By Denise Watson on 10.19.2013
Janelle sat still while her mother finished doing her hair. The braids were set but not too tight. The school year had just begin and Janelle was starting first grade.
By Michelle M on 10.19.2013
In someone’s a hair, a braid is a cluster of follicles, a collection of strands in a dense, twisted state. It is a common decoration in the young female, and is seen in most hairdos in the world. Not a ponytail, not a pigtail, not a bun. It is a knot, a piece of art. It is a braid.
By Genie on 10.19.2013
Her hair was braided. So stylish. Looks like she just came out of a fashion magazine. Braided hair is simple, but sweet. Stylish because she has some colorful clips on them. wow. I just took her picture. She is even more prettier up close.
I wonder if how many styles can her beautiful brown hair come up with. Whatever they were she will look absolutely perfect!
By roze_princess on 10.19.2013
Her hair was perfect. I was jealous. As i gingerly placed one brunette strand over another, the only thing I could think of was its perfect softness, and the perfect softness of her milky white skin.
By Riley on 10.19.2013
It fell across her shoulder like a snake, slithering between her breasts and finally licking her sternum. It was black and shiny and entwined, making a criss-crossed pattern along its back.
By Lightning Droplets URL on 10.19.2013
Her hair was in braids, or so I first thought, but a closer examination revealed it was just so tangled that it looked that way. Towards the ends, it was entwined with the shreds of her clothing, and caked in so much dirt that it was hard to tell where one finished and the other began.
By tonykeyesjapan URL on 10.19.2013
Her braid hung low, reaching the center of her back with an enviable ease. The braid signified many things: status. Loyalty. And, above all else, power.
By S.C. Lovelace on 10.19.2013
My mother never taught me how to braid my hair.
By Morgan Alexander on 10.19.2013
It swung across her back, like a pendulum, mesmerising. He could picture himself as Tarzan of the Apes, swinging through the jungle on that thick vine of hair, swinging across the perfectly rounded buttocks that swayed seductively in front of him
‘This is the grocery store, Tim,’ he scolded himself silently, and went back to scrutininsing the cereal boxes to his left.
By EliseLawrence on 10.19.2013
The bread braid was a delicious delicacy for all of the attendants at the party. There was never a taste as spectacular as the buttery bread braid.
By Kim on 10.19.2013
The braids in his beard were the progress of the ages as they wound with the silver thoughtspool wire and he sang the song and I swore I would never understand how this could possibly be true and yet
I knew what he was saying to me was the one truth of the skies: the silver thread, unspooled.
By jay wolf on 10.19.2013
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.