Delilah

Delilah knew from the start that all she had to do to ruin Samson was cut off his gorgeous mop. It wasn't for nothing that she'd lain in bed watching him brush it in the mirror like a girl, the self-conscious way he tossed it out of his eyes on the dance floor, the silk bandanna he tied it back with when he went gunning for Philistines. It was only to give them a few more days together that she pretended to swallow his clumsy fibs about how the way to get the better of him was with new rope, bowstrings, and so on.

But Philistine headquarters got tough with her finally, so one night when he was asleep with his head in her lap, she slipped out her scissors, and by the time she was through with him he looked like Mr. Clean. Even the Philistine goon squad had some qualms about jumping a man who was crying like a baby when they came in to get him, and after the look she saw him give his reflection in the dresser mirror as they dragged him out, she had the feeling that it was almost a relief to him when they put out his eyes.

Judges 16 

 

~originally published in Peculiar Treasures and later in Beyond Words