White Shock of Hair

The white shock of hair
like a wisp of buttercream
or the smoke leaving Charlie's cigarette
as she talks in her Manchester accent.

Tina says it happened overnight.
It was the fright
of seeing herself
facing herself
at the top of the stairs that did it.
Mouth moving silently
conveying a warning message.

The hair just stood on end.
The black liquorice strands
clutched at all the colours flying past
and like a Pink Floyd record cover
the spectrum of R.O.Y.G.B.I.V
formed a prism of livid terror.
Physically speaking: white was the result.

So now she sits near Charlie
for protection in the bar
taking solace in beernuts and stale crisps.
Wondering quite what terrible event
the doppleganger was forewarning her of.