As a little boy, he was the kind that would snip the ribbons off the braids that belonged to the little girl in front of him. As a man, he apologized to any universal power that would listen, hoped to god that all the little snots would leave the head of his precious little girl alone, as he sent her off to her first day of school- standing next to his wife, who knew the feeling of suddenly lighter braids.
I used to wear my hair in two twisted braids in grade school. I’ve always wanted to learn how to French braid, but I’m terrible at it. When I came to college, I had my hair in a side braid, and the girls on my floor called me “braid girl,” and I had no clue. I used to have my mom braid my hair all the time before school, even though it hurt her hands because of her arthritis. I feel bad now.
Her braided hair glistened in the fragmented sunlight, glimmering and dancing as they flowed in the air. The silver light emanating from each strand left me mesmerized, standing there dumbfounded and unmoving for what seemed like an eternity.
So… this is what it was like to meet a Lady of the Moon.
It was amazing, how even in the golden, coppery glow of the setting sun, her hair still stood out with such an amazing silvery aura. Every way she moved was more graceful, more beautiful than any human woman on earth. Her complexion was paler than what was deemed possible on my kingdom’s bronze and rosy flesh. And her garment… Her eyes, her smile. Everything about her made me want to go to her.
But there was a danger in that, wasn’t there? After all, there are many a tale that have been told to my people time and time again about foolish men who meet a Lady of the Moon.
About how you’d never find anything but their bones and garments after.
But still, despite the danger, I stood like an imbecile. That was, until our eyes met.
And oh, even though my heart gave a start, even though my instincts told me to run…
…. How she smiled so warmly my way.
Her whole body turned to face me as our eyes held each other’s gaze. They were as dazzling and silver as her hair. It almost looked as if you could see the stars in her eyes.
The light was fading around me. Soon it would be nightfall.
Soon she’d be at full power. If I didn’t run now…
…. But if I ran now, would I be able to see that wonderful smile again?
Just as I thought that, the Lady moved, tilting her head slightly to the side and extending her hand palm up to me, “Kindly…. Will you come join me?”
My eyes widened, my entire being suddenly at war with myself. Time was running out. I needed to run. I needed to go to her. Hold her and celebrate her existence. I’ll die. I needed to live. Run. Survive. Be in her arms forever.
Life.
Death.
Life.
Her.
Everything else…
The Lady waited patiently in the rapidly dying light. The aural circle around her was growing in my field of vision. So long as I stayed outside it, I would be safe. And I would long to be in that silvery embrace for the rest of my life.
I looked to her eyes, which were so wide, so pleading as she moved her pale blue lips again.
“Please?” Said she. It was enough to make me want to cry.
I had to move. I knew this to be the truth now. No matter which way, forward or back, to her or away, I had to move now.
Clenching my jaw, shutting my eyes tightly, and balling up my fists, I took a deep breath.
And I allowed my feet to move. The leaves and twigs cracked underneath as I did so.
My mother brushed my hair and then put in a braid. For a while, we stared at our reflections in the mirror. Her, beautiful, with brown almond shaped eyes and thick black hair. Me, blemished, a large scar running down my face, from my eyebrow to my chin.
She could do nothing but stare at the light, fluffy pastries in the donut shop. One looked like a big thick braid, just like Momma would do to her big sister Essie, the pretty one with the red hair.
Ugly, boring, plain girl. You look stupid with your hair like that. Other people look beautiful, but you, you do not. Other girls can make it work, but you, you cannot.
I felt someone tug down on the end of my braided top. I turned around, trying to look strong, just in case it was Trey. He looked at me with love and compassion in his eyes, and said “we’re safe, we’re finally safe.”
The thing you do with your hair. I would refer to it as “plait”. My mam used to do it for me when I was little for me. I do it myself now! There are many different ways and styles to braid. I love them.
I actually taught myself how to braid by a youtube video posted my juicystar07 that taught how to do the Lauren Conrad braid. I always wanted to know how to do it, because in my middle school that’s how all the cheerleaders had to wear their hair. I can only braid my own hair, not anyone else’s. My dad, however, for some reason can apparently braid circles around me. Which is weird, because he’s a coal miner, and a retired army major.
A melancholy bird at the window. It’s raining. I unbraid my hair and stare the bird down, until he takes a little plunge from the sill and I am left to wonder, with my unbound hair, if he has really reached his supreme day, his own inevitable hour, or simply flown to another window.
It always took at least six minutes to get ready, but Bethany always tried to braid her hair. She started when she was a little girl, or, her mother did. She would always do it for her every morning, and if it was sunday, she would put in little flowers. Bethany missed her mother, but she knew she was close whenever she began to put the tiny flowers in her auburn hair.
he doesn’t think anything of it until he’s drunk and he’s pulling on it. he takes the scissors and begins to cut away at the dark tresses because she pisses him and because he never wanted to marry her but had to because he’d been careless.
The braid of rope that hung down from his saddle had become so long it drug the ground. With each town that took him away from his beloved, he would weave a length of thread to remember her. It had been his final promise to her.
I watched as she tugged at her hair. The twists and knots that her mother had forced into them fall down and over her shoulders. She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears.
“I never wanted any of this.”
I nodded back, I knew she didn’t.
Every morning I braid my hair. it keeps it out of my way and makes it easier to take care of in the long run. I also like it when my girlfriend grabs it and leads me along. Normal couples hold hands, but she holds my braid and I love it. With this much hair, it’s a rope on the back of my neck.
I’m going to braid your little head. Mommy mommy yayy!!!!! The child squeeled with excitement. So pretty!! She hugged her tightly and started working on that princess hair.
The girl with the braid was the girl I secretly was crazy about. I would never tell anyone. There was something about that braid. It was always so perfect, so beautiful without any hairs hanging loose off of it. It was perfect. She was perfect.
i love braids. they are so cool. they twist and turn so amazingly beautiful. they are truly the most amazing things- in hair styling, its classic and timeless, in food… its delicious.
The braided rope was amazingly long and fantastic. It would go anywhere and would be able to make it through any battle. A sword could cut through it, but only if it one sat there for days hacking it apart. The braid was what made it so strong. It would be a powerful braid. it would ideally last forever, but even if that did not happen it would last long enough to matter. Long enough to make it into the history books.
In less than ten minutes her train would be leaving, but she was in no rush Her sense of time, unusually impeccable, was setting off a thousand alarms in her head, and just as unusually, she payed no attention to them. The train was of the newer diesel variety, large, not like the old steam engines that once ruled the plains, it’s largeness was in it’s utter domination of the new and improved rail system, sitting back in it’s office grinning and counting it’s money as the workers toiled away in the sun below. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her train would chug away, with or without her, and still she sat, tracing each bunch of hair down through her braid with her fingertips, deciding in this moment that she would never be on time again.
A girl in my class used to braid her hair. Every day. She would start plaiting it together, then take it apart. I never knew the purpose of braiding and unbraiding your hair constantly. But I’m sure she knew exactly why she did it.
Her braid extended down her back, swaying along the backs of her knees. It would be cut from her head as soon as she was of age. Orin did not think that would be much longer. Then he too would cut his braid and they would marry. And have children.
the fishtail, slithering down your back
caught in the wind, the wispy strand impairing your vision
i look and you and sigh
you have stars in your eyes
the braid that brought me to life, brought us to live
freedom, at last, freedom
The girl always tied her hair in a tight braid which fell to her waist. I was always so impressed at her dedication to maintain such a perfect and time-consuming hairstyle.
there was a girl i knew once, who always had a braid. she wore it. every day. even at night, i discovered when she slept over with me. And she would constantly, no matter the severity of the situation, calmly braid and unbraid her hair as slowly as I thought was humanly possible. So really, there was never much of a braid at all. Just the making of one.
the fishtale, slithering down your back
makes me think of the days we sat together on the shore
next to the old shrimp house
brimming with cheap jello and soggy fries
There once was this pretzel store in the mall that I used to go to as a child. It had these freshly made pretzels that were just AWESOME!! They were BRAIDED in a way that was unusual to me….
i braided her hair and told her she looked lovely. she turn from me to face the mirror and seemed to smile although i could not be sure. she brought her fingers up and touched the braid running the tips of her fingers down the lenght of it.
you put them in your hair. you dont only have to put them in your hair but this is the first thing i thought of when i saw the word! there are many different creative ways of braiding. this makes me think of the braiding ladies on the streets of most british holiday destinations who chage you a ridiculous amount to inflict excruciating pain on your poor burnt scalp to make you look like a ratty rastafarian wannabe.
My friend Jess taught me how to braid my hair like a head band. It’s a simple style, seeing as I cannot french braid. It’s really sad when I think about all the stuff that I can’t do that other girls can. Like cartwheels, braid hair, tan, and wear two pieces. I keep telling myself that one day I will, but I never will if I don’t try, will I? I’m the only one holding me back.
The hair was so big, volume oh my. so the only solution we could find was to braid it. So we began at eight in the morning and by midday I was half way the head of hair and we already had 40 braids! But four hours later when we were done it looked AMAZING and she hated it. I spent the next four hours taking them out again!
My braid snaking down my back, do you like that? Stay here. I’ll pretend I don’t like it but I hope you know I do. The end is so near, but you are nearer. We’ll stay this way, walking until the ground gives way to a bottomless pit. A thousand footprints we’ve left behind and will never again remake. There’s no time to look back, so don’t
She braided my hair with her delicate hands. I could tell her health was frail as she held my locks in her fingers. Lucky the was I’ve had her, it seems as if I have had her for too long, and now shes being taken away from me. Funny how life works like that, you get something great, only to have it snatched away when you need it most. I needed her to help me with boys and school and everything else, yet she was ripped away in a mere moment.
braids can be used in hair. they can be used in human hair, horse hair, ANY hair. braids can be made in many different styles. there are french braids, chinese braids, ANY type of braids you can think of. they can be decorated with ribbons, clips, ANYTHING. i love braids, they add ‘accesory’ to an outfit, they are gorgeous. <3
why does this site keep giving me the same word? at first i was excited then i realized i would have to fill out personal info that is annoying and unnecessary… I have nothing else to say about braids. I’m stifling bad language
I like to braid hair. I am not very good at it, however, it is still a favorite past time when getting together for the night with friends. I think that fish tail braids look weird but my one friend can do them really well on herself! I’m jealous.
A thousand braids tie together in the mild storm of her hair. Tying each individual strand together in one carousel of circling ribbons and bows. The braids dance when she runs and spiral around her face.
As a little boy, he was the kind that would snip the ribbons off the braids that belonged to the little girl in front of him. As a man, he apologized to any universal power that would listen, hoped to god that all the little snots would leave the head of his precious little girl alone, as he sent her off to her first day of school- standing next to his wife, who knew the feeling of suddenly lighter braids.
I used to wear my hair in two twisted braids in grade school. I’ve always wanted to learn how to French braid, but I’m terrible at it. When I came to college, I had my hair in a side braid, and the girls on my floor called me “braid girl,” and I had no clue. I used to have my mom braid my hair all the time before school, even though it hurt her hands because of her arthritis. I feel bad now.
no se que significa.\
lolololololoooolol.
Her braided hair glistened in the fragmented sunlight, glimmering and dancing as they flowed in the air. The silver light emanating from each strand left me mesmerized, standing there dumbfounded and unmoving for what seemed like an eternity.
So… this is what it was like to meet a Lady of the Moon.
It was amazing, how even in the golden, coppery glow of the setting sun, her hair still stood out with such an amazing silvery aura. Every way she moved was more graceful, more beautiful than any human woman on earth. Her complexion was paler than what was deemed possible on my kingdom’s bronze and rosy flesh. And her garment… Her eyes, her smile. Everything about her made me want to go to her.
But there was a danger in that, wasn’t there? After all, there are many a tale that have been told to my people time and time again about foolish men who meet a Lady of the Moon.
About how you’d never find anything but their bones and garments after.
But still, despite the danger, I stood like an imbecile. That was, until our eyes met.
And oh, even though my heart gave a start, even though my instincts told me to run…
…. How she smiled so warmly my way.
Her whole body turned to face me as our eyes held each other’s gaze. They were as dazzling and silver as her hair. It almost looked as if you could see the stars in her eyes.
The light was fading around me. Soon it would be nightfall.
Soon she’d be at full power. If I didn’t run now…
…. But if I ran now, would I be able to see that wonderful smile again?
Just as I thought that, the Lady moved, tilting her head slightly to the side and extending her hand palm up to me, “Kindly…. Will you come join me?”
My eyes widened, my entire being suddenly at war with myself. Time was running out. I needed to run. I needed to go to her. Hold her and celebrate her existence. I’ll die. I needed to live. Run. Survive. Be in her arms forever.
Life.
Death.
Life.
Her.
Everything else…
The Lady waited patiently in the rapidly dying light. The aural circle around her was growing in my field of vision. So long as I stayed outside it, I would be safe. And I would long to be in that silvery embrace for the rest of my life.
I looked to her eyes, which were so wide, so pleading as she moved her pale blue lips again.
“Please?” Said she. It was enough to make me want to cry.
I had to move. I knew this to be the truth now. No matter which way, forward or back, to her or away, I had to move now.
Clenching my jaw, shutting my eyes tightly, and balling up my fists, I took a deep breath.
And I allowed my feet to move. The leaves and twigs cracked underneath as I did so.
And guess which way it was??
My mother brushed my hair and then put in a braid. For a while, we stared at our reflections in the mirror. Her, beautiful, with brown almond shaped eyes and thick black hair. Me, blemished, a large scar running down my face, from my eyebrow to my chin.
She could do nothing but stare at the light, fluffy pastries in the donut shop. One looked like a big thick braid, just like Momma would do to her big sister Essie, the pretty one with the red hair.
Ugly, boring, plain girl. You look stupid with your hair like that. Other people look beautiful, but you, you do not. Other girls can make it work, but you, you cannot.
I felt someone tug down on the end of my braided top. I turned around, trying to look strong, just in case it was Trey. He looked at me with love and compassion in his eyes, and said “we’re safe, we’re finally safe.”
The thing you do with your hair. I would refer to it as “plait”. My mam used to do it for me when I was little for me. I do it myself now! There are many different ways and styles to braid. I love them.
I actually taught myself how to braid by a youtube video posted my juicystar07 that taught how to do the Lauren Conrad braid. I always wanted to know how to do it, because in my middle school that’s how all the cheerleaders had to wear their hair. I can only braid my own hair, not anyone else’s. My dad, however, for some reason can apparently braid circles around me. Which is weird, because he’s a coal miner, and a retired army major.
A melancholy bird at the window. It’s raining. I unbraid my hair and stare the bird down, until he takes a little plunge from the sill and I am left to wonder, with my unbound hair, if he has really reached his supreme day, his own inevitable hour, or simply flown to another window.
It always took at least six minutes to get ready, but Bethany always tried to braid her hair. She started when she was a little girl, or, her mother did. She would always do it for her every morning, and if it was sunday, she would put in little flowers. Bethany missed her mother, but she knew she was close whenever she began to put the tiny flowers in her auburn hair.
he doesn’t think anything of it until he’s drunk and he’s pulling on it. he takes the scissors and begins to cut away at the dark tresses because she pisses him and because he never wanted to marry her but had to because he’d been careless.
The braid of rope that hung down from his saddle had become so long it drug the ground. With each town that took him away from his beloved, he would weave a length of thread to remember her. It had been his final promise to her.
I watched as she tugged at her hair. The twists and knots that her mother had forced into them fall down and over her shoulders. She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears.
“I never wanted any of this.”
I nodded back, I knew she didn’t.
Every morning I braid my hair. it keeps it out of my way and makes it easier to take care of in the long run. I also like it when my girlfriend grabs it and leads me along. Normal couples hold hands, but she holds my braid and I love it. With this much hair, it’s a rope on the back of my neck.
I’m going to braid your little head. Mommy mommy yayy!!!!! The child squeeled with excitement. So pretty!! She hugged her tightly and started working on that princess hair.
The girl with the braid was the girl I secretly was crazy about. I would never tell anyone. There was something about that braid. It was always so perfect, so beautiful without any hairs hanging loose off of it. It was perfect. She was perfect.
i love braids. they are so cool. they twist and turn so amazingly beautiful. they are truly the most amazing things- in hair styling, its classic and timeless, in food… its delicious.
The braided rope was amazingly long and fantastic. It would go anywhere and would be able to make it through any battle. A sword could cut through it, but only if it one sat there for days hacking it apart. The braid was what made it so strong. It would be a powerful braid. it would ideally last forever, but even if that did not happen it would last long enough to matter. Long enough to make it into the history books.
In less than ten minutes her train would be leaving, but she was in no rush Her sense of time, unusually impeccable, was setting off a thousand alarms in her head, and just as unusually, she payed no attention to them. The train was of the newer diesel variety, large, not like the old steam engines that once ruled the plains, it’s largeness was in it’s utter domination of the new and improved rail system, sitting back in it’s office grinning and counting it’s money as the workers toiled away in the sun below. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her train would chug away, with or without her, and still she sat, tracing each bunch of hair down through her braid with her fingertips, deciding in this moment that she would never be on time again.
A girl in my class used to braid her hair. Every day. She would start plaiting it together, then take it apart. I never knew the purpose of braiding and unbraiding your hair constantly. But I’m sure she knew exactly why she did it.
Her braid extended down her back, swaying along the backs of her knees. It would be cut from her head as soon as she was of age. Orin did not think that would be much longer. Then he too would cut his braid and they would marry. And have children.
the fishtail, slithering down your back
caught in the wind, the wispy strand impairing your vision
i look and you and sigh
you have stars in your eyes
the braid that brought me to life, brought us to live
freedom, at last, freedom
The girl always tied her hair in a tight braid which fell to her waist. I was always so impressed at her dedication to maintain such a perfect and time-consuming hairstyle.
there was a girl i knew once, who always had a braid. she wore it. every day. even at night, i discovered when she slept over with me. And she would constantly, no matter the severity of the situation, calmly braid and unbraid her hair as slowly as I thought was humanly possible. So really, there was never much of a braid at all. Just the making of one.
the fishtale, slithering down your back
makes me think of the days we sat together on the shore
next to the old shrimp house
brimming with cheap jello and soggy fries
There once was this pretzel store in the mall that I used to go to as a child. It had these freshly made pretzels that were just AWESOME!! They were BRAIDED in a way that was unusual to me….
i braided her hair and told her she looked lovely. she turn from me to face the mirror and seemed to smile although i could not be sure. she brought her fingers up and touched the braid running the tips of her fingers down the lenght of it.
you put them in your hair. you dont only have to put them in your hair but this is the first thing i thought of when i saw the word! there are many different creative ways of braiding. this makes me think of the braiding ladies on the streets of most british holiday destinations who chage you a ridiculous amount to inflict excruciating pain on your poor burnt scalp to make you look like a ratty rastafarian wannabe.
My friend Jess taught me how to braid my hair like a head band. It’s a simple style, seeing as I cannot french braid. It’s really sad when I think about all the stuff that I can’t do that other girls can. Like cartwheels, braid hair, tan, and wear two pieces. I keep telling myself that one day I will, but I never will if I don’t try, will I? I’m the only one holding me back.
The hair was so big, volume oh my. so the only solution we could find was to braid it. So we began at eight in the morning and by midday I was half way the head of hair and we already had 40 braids! But four hours later when we were done it looked AMAZING and she hated it. I spent the next four hours taking them out again!
My braid snaking down my back, do you like that? Stay here. I’ll pretend I don’t like it but I hope you know I do. The end is so near, but you are nearer. We’ll stay this way, walking until the ground gives way to a bottomless pit. A thousand footprints we’ve left behind and will never again remake. There’s no time to look back, so don’t
todays word is braid… Im not very fond of them… I’ve never been. Not on my hair at least, I don’t know why.
She braided my hair with her delicate hands. I could tell her health was frail as she held my locks in her fingers. Lucky the was I’ve had her, it seems as if I have had her for too long, and now shes being taken away from me. Funny how life works like that, you get something great, only to have it snatched away when you need it most. I needed her to help me with boys and school and everything else, yet she was ripped away in a mere moment.
braids can be used in hair. they can be used in human hair, horse hair, ANY hair. braids can be made in many different styles. there are french braids, chinese braids, ANY type of braids you can think of. they can be decorated with ribbons, clips, ANYTHING. i love braids, they add ‘accesory’ to an outfit, they are gorgeous. <3
why does this site keep giving me the same word? at first i was excited then i realized i would have to fill out personal info that is annoying and unnecessary… I have nothing else to say about braids. I’m stifling bad language
She taught herself how to french braid her own hair.
I like to braid hair. I am not very good at it, however, it is still a favorite past time when getting together for the night with friends. I think that fish tail braids look weird but my one friend can do them really well on herself! I’m jealous.
A thousand braids tie together in the mild storm of her hair. Tying each individual strand together in one carousel of circling ribbons and bows. The braids dance when she runs and spiral around her face.