Elsewhere Hair remembers how dark a room becomes when hair is not let loose, straw fallen from the head of a broom, drifting onto a path, crunched underfoot by someone who never realised it was straw. Hair drank, jogged, ate by itself, knew how to tick “Like” on Social Media. But hair felt out of touch with itself unable to distinguish the difference between fear of the unknown, and fear of something bad. Hair remembered the ultramarine blue of sea and sky and the hundred varieties of tuna, calamari and squid.   Hair has dreams, that’s what hair does. Covers…