Alex

Your hair was the kind people remembered. Thick , wild curls that bounced when you laughed and framed your face like soft clouds. Your husband, Alex adored it more than anything. Every morning he would play with a curl and say, “These curls are the reason I fell in love with you.”

One quiet afternoon, you stared at yourself in the mirror and sighed. You were tired of looking the same every day. On a sudden impulse, you picked up a straightener and spent hours smoothing every curl until your hair fell long and perfectly straight over your shoulders.

When Alex came home, you smiled proudly and waited for his reaction.

He stepped inside, looked at you once, then froze in horror.

His grocery bags slipped from his hands.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

You laughed. “It’s me!”

But he kept staring at your straight hair with wide eyes before dramatically crying out:

“Oh no… you killed my children!”

You burst into laughter while he pointed accusingly at the missing curls.

“My babies! My beautiful curls are gone!”