The hair, inspired by a picture from a flea market

I woke up in the morning, and i was feeling under the weather. Normally i would wake right up, but i decided to lay in bed for an extra moment. The i woke up again. I freaked out because i didn’t mean to sleep any longer. I jumped out of bed as quickly as i could, and i looked in the mirror. i was horrorstruck. for some odd reason my hair had taken the form of a cumulonimbus cloud. each time i attempted to run the brush through it, the brush got caught in its massive swirl. so i decided to skip my hair, and i just got dressed. I realized i was only 10 minutes late to the party, so i tried again to fix my hair. That’s when it happened. the brush snapped, and then disintegrated. the entire room began to change. The walls all began to give away, and i could see nothing but black. there were swirls of sparkling dust waving near my face. then i could see my mother. she had passed away several years ago. “it’s time to get up” she told me in her beautiful melodious voice. “you need to leave.” she said, this time with more urgency. That was when she disappeared, taking with her the wondrous illusion that had formed around me. Then i woke up, and my hair was still a mess.