I was sitting at a dressing table, with my own face in the mirror.
I could see a room in the reflection that was not my current house.
My hands were folded on my lap. I had some sort of dress on with lace and satin, dark in color.
Someone was brushing my hair. I could not see her.
I watched in the mirror as my hair was braided and twisted. Up and up my hair went on top of my head. Little pins that glittered were stuck here and there.
I awoke with the desire to play with my hair.
Like when I was a teenage girl I gathered my hair things and began playing.
I brushed and combed, parted and braided. Up, up went my hair.
I added sprigs of lavender to my "do."