The girl with blue hair

I must be losing my touch, thought the girl with blue hair. People would usually stop and stare at her unabashedly, eyes widening mouths agape. Some would also point, in a slow-motion distracted manner, the possibility that they might be rude overshadowed by the fact that they’d been rendered speechless. The girl with blue hair did not mind the attention; one could even say that she revelled in it a little, that she did feel a tiny bit proud of her ability to astonish. But these days people hardly look at her – indeed, they don’t seem to notice her at all. They just walk right past her, where she stands selling soft toys in aid of charity.