Hair Today

James was losing his hair. For a few years he thought that perhaps his friends were overreacting and just teasing him to provoke a response. Unfortunately, the mirrors were not lying or teasing. This was it. Hair today, gone today.

James put the smaller mirror (of the two) down next to the bath and went through his options. He did not have the courage to go through any sort of hair replacement stuff. Wigs were out of the question. Shaving his head was an option but being quite skinny and not well built in size he guessed it would not suit. He wasn't sure. One thing that was; the ladies would not like it.

James queried his love life. For years he confessed to being a man who would not commit to a woman. But now it was different. His hair was going and it was time to settle down with the lady who would accept him for who he was and not what was going on with his hair.

He thought about Tracey ' the person he was dating (officially) for six months now. There were some glaring mistakes and differences but perhaps there was a future. A future that involved James with Tracey and lots of children. Problem: Tracey was unable to conceive; solution: adoption. Good. That's settled and now to pop the question. Yes, at a restaurant over wine and steak. Or vice versa.

James believed that his racing mind was not the answer to his problems. From experience he concluded that it never was. He breathed in and then out. He calmed and mentally drew out the plans.

5 years later

James stood in front of the mirror. 'It never lies' he told himself, 'or was that the camera?'. His hair was fading fast - at the front as well as the top of the middle. He panicked but remembered his loving wife, Elizabeth, in the next room fast asleep. He felt at ease and knew that life would get better as soon as the first child came out in three months time and the second a couple of years later. A fleeting thought of the meeting he was going to in 5 hours time brought the panic back. How was he to convince the board about his fabulous idea? Was it really that fabulous? Was his follow on speech any better? Was the job he was in really worth the worry he felt almost everyday of his working life as well as every other day?

James queried his working life. For years now he was stuck in a pathetic job that involved his peers asking him to take their ideas and promote them in a tedious way to a stuck up board who always accepted everybody's ideas except for his. Today would be no different so it was time for a plan. In three years he would be out of the job and into a beautiful vocation where his ideas were accepted and created to bring better quality to the earth. He would be the team leader rather than just a team worker. There are plenty of companies out there that would want him; he just needed to find them. In the next three years he would be working for one of them and on a salary that would support his loving wife and three potential children.

He went into his room and without disturbing Elizabeth, he got a pad from the drawer and wrote out the plans.

Another 5 years later

James opened his eyes. The ceiling was different. He realised he was at Tracey's house and rolled on to his left for more sleep. Something crawled into his mouth. James sat up and tried spit it out but could not. He put his hand in his mouth and picked out what seemed to be hair. He made his way into the bathroom and turned on the light.

Yes indeed it was hair.
Washair.
Ishair.
Hishair.
His hair was still shedding even after all these years. He thought that would stop at one point. The mirror was slightly chipped at the bottom right hand edge. He remembered back to the time he broke it. 10 years almost to the day. He was fooling around with Tracey, while Tracey's parents were downstairs making dinner for them. He could not believe this mirror had been around for so long - just as he had kept his job for so long. Why was he still a team worker for an advertising company? Why had he not filled out a single application form for another company? Why was he divorced? Why did his children keep forgetting who he was even though he went around every fortnight? Why was his fucking hair still falling out?

James queried his luck. He didn't get any breaks. If he had breaks he would have been a success by now. He would be a leader, he would not be divorced, his kids would love him and his hair would be sitting beautifully on his healthy scalp. He knew it was time for a plan. A great plan. A plan that would see his wasted life become fortified with joy and fullness. A plan that would bring luck crawling up to him begging him to take him back - looking at him in the eyes and crying; crying for the ill way it has treated him ' guilt. Guilty for all the times she slept with that bastard from Hornchurch library. This plan would succeed him. All he needed was another advertising company, a better solicitor (she cheated on him why did she have the children?) and a damn good trichologist.

He stumbled into Tracey's room and searched for some paper ' he found a napkin. Using only an eye liner pencil, he began to iterate the plans.

A further 10 years later

James felt worried. He was uncomfortable due to the firmness of the surgeon's table. His days of living flashed before him as he waited for the anaesthesia to kick in. A tumour they said. At his age ' pretty disastrous. Disastrous at any age. When he next would wake, he would wake, but half a man. A golden piece of dust landed brightly on his chin. It grew into the size of a five pound note. It spoke.

'Hello there, I am the speaker of fortune for that of the future, that of the past and present. How do you do?' James knew not to reply as he felt a little drowsy. Is this what hallucinations are?

'I'm actually from our admin department and we believe we have made a mistake' said the speaker of fortune. S/he continued 'We think, well¦ we sort of know that we have given you too much luck. That type of luck, that you humans believe is of the negative kind.'

'wha¦wer¦wha¦' James tried to mouth but could not due to the continuing effects of the depressant.

'We here at the 'Federation Council of Uncontested Kismet' would like to apologise for our misrepresentation of your situations and hereby grant to you, as a one time offer only, redemption through the fortuitous nature as underlined in paragraph H16 of the contract of yada-yada-yada, you may request a written summary at any point in your not so distant future.'

A surge of adrenalin moved through James' body that gave him enough energy to stay awake. He tried to speak.

'Federa¦ fedra..fed?' He half spoke and spat. The speaker of fortune's admin department representative replied.

'Yes, you can imagine the copyright situation but luckily, and no pun intended, we have no such laws in our realm. Surprisingly though, the T-shirts were not as big as they are in your kingdom.

I digress. Here is the brief. If you wish to take us up on our offer then you must listen to what I will say in your ear. You then have 20 earth seconds to write down what you hear me say on a piece of paper which when read out loud, or to yourself, will provide you with the positive fortune that we so owe you due to our errors and our miscalculations. If you do not write the sentence down then you cannot read it out loud, or to yourself, and your memory of our conversation will cease to be and so will the positive fortunes that we owe you, due to our error arriving from our inaccurate computations. You cannot just say out what I speak into your ear as it is the process of reading and reading alone that will determine whether you receive the positive fortune that we owe you, due to our error as a result of our incompetence. Do you understand and do you want me to say the words?'

James queried his life. He was retiring early from his Associate Team Co-ordinator job; he never made leader in the twenty-one odd years he had worked for that bastard firm. His wife divorced him and re-married to a Librarian from Hornchurch; he had not seen his children for nine years because '¦I do not believe another man in my two boys' life would be constructive to our nuclear family environment¦'. Tracey was not the right woman for him because Tracey was a man; a man who could not pull off eye liner. James had testicular cancer. And last but not least, not least of all least ' not even lesser than any of it's predecessors¦ James had lost all his hair; all except the hair on his ears, in his nostrils, the back of his neck and most disturbingly, on his tumoured testicle. How could he say no?

'Ye¦jer¦ya¦' James gave up and managed a dismal nod. The speaker of fortune golden £5 look-a-like crawled across James' face and placed his/herself next to James' ear standing on the pillow. Five seconds later it disappeared.

20 James scanned the room with his limited lying down vision for a piece of paper and a pen.
19 His ultimate plan was only a few seconds away from being written,
18 and he did not have the ability to move.
17 He knew that all these years of disbelief could be over in a matter,
16 of fifteen odd seconds. But he could not fucking move. He tried a last ounce of adrenalin,
15 motivated movement to roll off the bed and land on the floor, to miraculously find a pen and paper to write what had been told to him.
14 He felt his chances slipping away as his only movement caused him to move onto his side still on the bed.
13 He rested to regain energy.
12, 11
10 He went for it. Nothing in his life meant more at this stage than the,
9 reduction of his ill and mis-fortuitous life.
8 The final movement saw his eyes sink closer to his,
7 pillow. He sighed mentally,
5, 4
3 He looked on the perfectly beautiful white pillow to find one flaw.
2 A single blade of shortly cut, grey, male hair.