Chino Hills
Alexis Avila




I never liked my hair. Always too long, too brown. Falling in my face like the curtains after a play. It grew like wildflowers on the side of a highway. My mother always told me boys would like me if I did something with it. Maybe they would like me if I didn’t look like my brother. My father loved my hair, so I cut it all off. The remains were sent to him in the mail.

About the author:
Alexis Avila collects greeting cards and has seven cats. She loves plants and making people laugh. Her work has been published on Eskimo Pie and Leaves of Ink. You can find her at your local ice cream parlor.