crack
I don't usually do crackfic. It just doesn't work for me.
That said, I guess I have a better understanding now, because I wrote some earlier.
The Adventures of Sawyer's Hair
Sawyer's hair liked its freedom. The wind in it, and all that. So
after being constrained once again by the ponytail holder, Sawyer's
hair decided it had had enough. It was going to go off and have a few
adventures of its own.
It hopped down from his shoulders while he was sleeping. As it
scurried away, it thought it could hear Sawyer screaming, "MY HAIR!"
If it had had fingers, it would have left him a note. It would be
back, sometime. He didn't need to worry.
The hair ran into the jungle, looking for the waterfall. The waterfall
had felt so good, its coldness caressing its follicles. But Sawyer's
hair shared his poor sense of direction, and soon it was lost in the
jungle. If only it had been able to leave that note. Sawyer would have
come looking for it, instead of crying to Jack, who with his shaven
skull would show no sympathy.
The hair huddled under a tree, feeling lost and alone. Maybe it should
have kept the ponytail holder. Now it would feel like a warm hug,
squeezing it tight, rather than a trap. (Not that anyone had ever
really hugged Sawyer's hair, so it didn't really know what a hug would
feel like, but the idea was there regardless. Perhaps Sawyer was more
connected to his hair than anyone realized.)
Suddenly, there was a rustling noise. The hair worried it would be
that monster everyone talked about, or worse...polar bear hair come to
take revenge! The hair tried to hide under a leaf but its golden shine
caught the sun.
The newcomer turned out to be dark waves. Sawyer's hair eyed it
nervously, unsure of whose hair it could be. Sayid? Hurley? Kate?
Danielle? Whose hair would want to escape?
"What're you doing out here?" Sawyer's hair asked.
"Looking for a brush."
He still didn't know whose hair it was. None of those people ever
seemed to brush their hair. If not for Sun, he would think there was a
definite divide in the camp -- blondes brushed, brunettes did not.
Still, the hair was practical. Perhaps that was a clue.
"There's a waterfall out here, you seen it?" Sawyer's hair had the
same drawl Sawyer did. It was, of course, Southern hair.
"I didn't know there was a waterfall. Want to look for it?"
Not Kate's hair. That was something of a relief. Probably not
Danielle's either. It wasn't talking in riddles. The hairs began to
explore the jungle together. They felt comfortable even being quiet
together. "How come you're out here?" Sawyer's hair asked.
"I was feeling really unappreciated. No one's wanted me in years and years."
"Really?" That made Sawyer's hair feel sad. It had run away because
Sawyer had threatened its freedom, but Sawyer's hair was appreciated
every single day, if not by Sawyer then by someone else on the island,
or admiring fangirls on the internet who spent lots of time composing
rhapsodies dedicated to it.
They crested a hill and found the waterfall. Sawyer's hair jumped
right in, and the cold water felt just as good as it remembered. But
it missed Sawyer's fingers digging through it, slicking it back. The
dark hair was more cautious, easing in a little bit at a time. It
wasn't as curly as Sayid and Hurley's hair, and it had a touch of red
to it when the sun struck it, Sawyer's hair observed.
After a long afternoon of playing together and sunning themselves dry,
the hair decided it was time to head back to the beach. They went
together, slowly. "This is as far as I can go," the dark hair said.
"How come?" asked Sawyer's hair.
"I don't really belong to anyone, not anymore."
"You mean --?"
"That's right. I was cut off." The dark hair was trying hard to be
brave and not sad.
"You're Jack's hair, aren't you?" Sawyer's hair asked, and the other
hair nodded. "I should have known it." There was an awkward silence.
Jack's hair was maybe trying not to cry. "I'll see what I can do. Get
Jack to want you again."
"It's no use," said Jack's hair, and then it turned and hurried away,
because parting was too difficult for it to stand.
Sawyer's hair crept across the beach and back onto Sawyer's head. In
no time at all, it felt the reassuring touch of Sawyer's fingers.
"Thank god," Sawyer murmured, and then drifted back to sleep. If in
the future he ever wondered why he looked lingeringly at Jack's scalp,
at least we know why.
end.
That said, I guess I have a better understanding now, because I wrote some earlier.
The Adventures of Sawyer's Hair
Sawyer's hair liked its freedom. The wind in it, and all that. So
after being constrained once again by the ponytail holder, Sawyer's
hair decided it had had enough. It was going to go off and have a few
adventures of its own.
It hopped down from his shoulders while he was sleeping. As it
scurried away, it thought it could hear Sawyer screaming, "MY HAIR!"
If it had had fingers, it would have left him a note. It would be
back, sometime. He didn't need to worry.
The hair ran into the jungle, looking for the waterfall. The waterfall
had felt so good, its coldness caressing its follicles. But Sawyer's
hair shared his poor sense of direction, and soon it was lost in the
jungle. If only it had been able to leave that note. Sawyer would have
come looking for it, instead of crying to Jack, who with his shaven
skull would show no sympathy.
The hair huddled under a tree, feeling lost and alone. Maybe it should
have kept the ponytail holder. Now it would feel like a warm hug,
squeezing it tight, rather than a trap. (Not that anyone had ever
really hugged Sawyer's hair, so it didn't really know what a hug would
feel like, but the idea was there regardless. Perhaps Sawyer was more
connected to his hair than anyone realized.)
Suddenly, there was a rustling noise. The hair worried it would be
that monster everyone talked about, or worse...polar bear hair come to
take revenge! The hair tried to hide under a leaf but its golden shine
caught the sun.
The newcomer turned out to be dark waves. Sawyer's hair eyed it
nervously, unsure of whose hair it could be. Sayid? Hurley? Kate?
Danielle? Whose hair would want to escape?
"What're you doing out here?" Sawyer's hair asked.
"Looking for a brush."
He still didn't know whose hair it was. None of those people ever
seemed to brush their hair. If not for Sun, he would think there was a
definite divide in the camp -- blondes brushed, brunettes did not.
Still, the hair was practical. Perhaps that was a clue.
"There's a waterfall out here, you seen it?" Sawyer's hair had the
same drawl Sawyer did. It was, of course, Southern hair.
"I didn't know there was a waterfall. Want to look for it?"
Not Kate's hair. That was something of a relief. Probably not
Danielle's either. It wasn't talking in riddles. The hairs began to
explore the jungle together. They felt comfortable even being quiet
together. "How come you're out here?" Sawyer's hair asked.
"I was feeling really unappreciated. No one's wanted me in years and years."
"Really?" That made Sawyer's hair feel sad. It had run away because
Sawyer had threatened its freedom, but Sawyer's hair was appreciated
every single day, if not by Sawyer then by someone else on the island,
or admiring fangirls on the internet who spent lots of time composing
rhapsodies dedicated to it.
They crested a hill and found the waterfall. Sawyer's hair jumped
right in, and the cold water felt just as good as it remembered. But
it missed Sawyer's fingers digging through it, slicking it back. The
dark hair was more cautious, easing in a little bit at a time. It
wasn't as curly as Sayid and Hurley's hair, and it had a touch of red
to it when the sun struck it, Sawyer's hair observed.
After a long afternoon of playing together and sunning themselves dry,
the hair decided it was time to head back to the beach. They went
together, slowly. "This is as far as I can go," the dark hair said.
"How come?" asked Sawyer's hair.
"I don't really belong to anyone, not anymore."
"You mean --?"
"That's right. I was cut off." The dark hair was trying hard to be
brave and not sad.
"You're Jack's hair, aren't you?" Sawyer's hair asked, and the other
hair nodded. "I should have known it." There was an awkward silence.
Jack's hair was maybe trying not to cry. "I'll see what I can do. Get
Jack to want you again."
"It's no use," said Jack's hair, and then it turned and hurried away,
because parting was too difficult for it to stand.
Sawyer's hair crept across the beach and back onto Sawyer's head. In
no time at all, it felt the reassuring touch of Sawyer's fingers.
"Thank god," Sawyer murmured, and then drifted back to sleep. If in
the future he ever wondered why he looked lingeringly at Jack's scalp,
at least we know why.
end.