“Welcome to Nail-tique.” A young woman with half her head shaved, the other half with rainbow colored hair down to her waist, gave a smile of pointed green hued teeth.
Sara fought a cringe. Style in the future wasn’t something she envied for her grandchildren.
This was her first “jump.” Time travel had finally become affordable for the average middle-class citizen and she’d chosen to stick with visiting her hometown one hundred years down the road. Sure, the place was filled with flying cars and buildings that moved on their own, but nothing beat a good old-fashioned manicure.
Her heart sped and her fingers tingled as she sat behind the familiar booth of her favorite salon. What were the chances this place would still be around?
Life-sized photos of the latest nail styles flashed around her, as they moved and winked into the next advertisement. Many of the trends didn’t look too different than what was popular in the past.
“What would you like done today?” a petite woman with thick-rimmed glasses asked. Her hairstyle was a backwards Mohawk, with long, jagged black hair falling down the sides and a close cut buzz right through the middle.
Again, Sara struggled to keep her smile in place. “I guess I’d like whatever is popular right now.”
“Of course,” Mohawk lady said. She set a small box-like contraption on the counter. “Slip your hands inside this and I’ll get to work.”
It didn’t look too different from the box the salon used to quick-dry Sara’s gel nail polish. The technology must be similar.
Twenty minutes passed as the lady tugged on her hands, working her magic. Women—and men—steadily rolled through the salon, each leaving with a set of nails a little more wild than the last. Most of the clothing styles were similar to what Sara wore, if not cut just slightly funkier. An odd off-beat type of music pulsed from speakers overhead, the music threatening to give Sara a headache.
“All done,” the Mohawk lady said.
She flashed a smile with normal white teeth that weren’t pointed and Sara smiled back. Maybe her grandchildren wouldn’t look as freaky as she first thought.
Sara pulled her hands from the box and looked down. Her heart stopped. “What did you do?” she screamed.
Mohawk lady frowned. “You said you wanted the latest trend.”
Sara stared at her hands. The lady hadn’t just given her a manicure, she’d done the exact opposite. The fashion of the future wasn’t to have anything at all.
Her nails were completely gone.
©Laura L. Zimmerman 2018