Narration Demo Reel - Fiction

Claire is celebrating her 21st birthday with Henry. She is in Henry's bed, reading a book while Henry cooks dinner. Claire considers cutting her hair but knows Henry loves it. She combs her hair and finds it heavy when wet. Henry sings as Claire emerges from the bathroom. birthday, Sunday, May 24, 1992. Claire is 21. Henry is 28. It's my 21st birthday. It's a perfect summer evening. I'm at Henry's apartment in Henry's bed, reading The Moonstone. Henry is in the tiny kitchen at making dinner. As I don his bathrobe and head for the bathroom, I hear him swearing at the blender. I take my time, wash my hair, steam up the mirrors. I think about cutting my hair. How nice it would be to wash it, run a quick comb through it, and presto, all set, ready to rock and roll. I sigh. Henry loves my hair almost as though it is a creature unto itself, as though it has a soul to call its own, as though it could love him back. I know he loves it as a part of me, but I also know that he would be deeply upset if I cut it off, and I would miss it too. It's just so much effort. Sometimes I want to take it off like a wig and set it aside while I go out and play. I comb it carefully, working out the tangles. My hair is heavy when it's wet. It pulls on my scalp. I prop the bathroom door open to dissipate the steam. Henry is singing something from Carmina Burana. It sounds weird and off-key. I emerge from the bathroom, and he is setting the table.