Priscilla's Salon

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, while picking up her usual Tuesday appointment, Priscilla noticed something peculiar in the salon’s waiting area. A small, dusty box sat on top of an old magazine rack, its label barely legible. Curious, she approached it and found herself smiling at the strange collection inside—an assortment of vintage hairpins, each one more colorful than the last. As she picked up a particularly eye-catching pin, Priscilla felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. It was just Marie, the elderly lady next door who often dropped by for a chat. ‘Oh, Priscilla,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘looks like someone forgot their treasure trove!’ Turns out, the box belonged to Marie’s late sister, whose love for brightly colored hair accessories had become legendary around town.

2. At dawn, when most salons are still closed, an early riser heard strange whispers coming from Priscilla’s Salon. Curious, they peeked inside and saw Priscilla humming softly as she styled a mannequin’s hair with meticulous care. Turns out, it was just her morning ritual—talking to her imaginary clients while preparing for another day of perfect cuts. The early riser left with a warm smile, thinking maybe Priscilla had found her own special way to start each day.

3. At midnight, when even streetlights dim their glow, a delivery driver pulled up to Priscilla’s Salon. The sign read ‘Closed,’ but he spotted a faint light inside. Curious, he knocked gently on the door—and was greeted by the sound of laughter from within. Through the open door, he saw an elderly lady with silver hair and a big smile, cutting someone’s locks with precision. She waved him in and introduced herself as Priscilla, noticing his surprise. With a twinkle in her eye, she added, 'We never close early—we just take our breaks whenever inspiration strikes!'

4. At dusk, when most people head home for dinner, a neighbor passing by Priscilla’s Salon saw a shadowy figure reflected in the window. The salon had been quiet all day. Curious, she peered closer and noticed that it was just an old hat left on a chair by a regular. Inside, Priscilla was humming softly as she styled another customer’s hair, oblivious to the drama outside. The neighbor laughed, shook her head, and went home to make herself a sandwich—another ordinary evening in town.