The Hair

He’d had enough.

Although he’d been born on this head, the neighborhood was changing. White, silver and gray hairs were moving in. The whole area was becoming less populated. It used to be that he was shoulder to shoulder with other brown hair shafts; no more. Hairs he’d known since roothood, hairs like Curt, Lee, Manny, Seb, and Montel, were gone. All that remained were the pretty girls on the sides, a few of the unruly boys who lived on the back, and the cowlick kids. But, while he knew of them, he rarely came into contact with them. They were hairs, and like him, but they weren’t really friends.

Migrating to somewhere else was naturally his first thought. He considered the ears but it wasn’t nearly as tidy around the ears. He’d heard that the pubic area was often hot and humid, and hair still thrived there, but was also usually dark. The pubs rarely saw the sun. So, after deep meditation and contemplation about his life, he said good-bye to his follicle and made the leap into the basin.