As Cecil ran his nails through her hair, Mary couldn’t help but realize that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Even if a bug crawled up her ear and ate her brain, at least she’d die a contented person. This was enough. People went on and on about how intercourse was the best thing there was in the world – how that was the final precipice to overcome between two people…but how on Earth could it compare to this? She wasn’t even in love with Cecil, anyway.
She sighed and stretched a little on the dirt, her right arm a little numb from her head’s weight on it for so long. In front of her, a little earthworm crawled moodily towards a wet patch of dirt a few feet away.
“Your hair is so… red .” Cecil’s soft voice drifted from behind her. Mary felt her hair being pulled upwards and released over her face. “It is a rather queer color. For hair.”
She laughed as a few strands tickled her face. “Yeah, I know. My Grandma called me Carrot occasionally. But she used to be a redhead, too.”
“Fortunately for her."