Death of A Hairbrush

You were a good hairbrush. By my side for at least 15 years or so, ever there when all the other hairbrushes would hide amongst the frippery in the makeup drawer. You served me well, never complaining about the times when my hair was so long that it took over an hour to work out the tangles. You smoothed my coif to shiny goodness when it was short enough to just comb with my fingers. Your wooden handle had begun to show age with little nicks and dents in the smooth polish, but you never complained. Your bristles stayed strong and true, unlike other more recent brushes who gave up the fight against wet tangly hair almost before it began.

Even more recently being the chewtoy of an overzealous house pony, you still performed your duties well. I am sorry that the aforementioned dog hurried you to the afterlife(or whereever old brushes go) You didn’t deserve the neglect from me.

You will be remembered for the true hair implement that you were.

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