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Giving Shit

One day, Edward Julian Watson had on a yellow dress shirt only; he had not done up the buttons on the cuffs yet and this is what Edward Julian Watson noticed, while standing in his yellow bathroom, looking into the mirror, that was above his bathroom sink.
Of course, what Edward Julian Watson noticed was not noticed at first. In fact, Edward Julian Watson almost looked away from the mirror; but when his eyes snapped back upon the reflection of himself; those eyes widened; so wide were the whites.
And yes, Edward Julian Watson's hand did indeed grip the edge of the sink, as he leaned forward and perched his puckered pinched fingers to his hairline.
Edward Julian Watson was wondering if he should be fainting.
Because his heart was pounding very fast and wanted to leap from his chest.
Edward Julian Watson was scared.
Because Edward Julian Watson noticed he was going bald. He just knew it.
So, he did not touch his hair, not even with the very tips of his fingers. Instead, Edward Julian Watson stood up straight and took a long, stiff look in the mirror, at his head. His hair.
I am sexy, he thought.
Not for long now, Bozo, Edward Julian Watson's thoughts answered themselves.
So, Edward Julian Watson decided to look down at his nipples.
But, he just had to look back up to his head. His hair.
And that is when Edward Julian Watson become aware of the fear in his eyes.
“Snap out of it,” Edward Julian Watson said out loud, but he was still paranoid, when he walked out of his front door ten minutes later.
Edward Julian Watson decided he better shave his moustache.
What? You want to lose more hair?
Shut-up,, Edward Julian Watson strangled his thoughts.

Becki stood in front of the mirror in her yellow room. Becki was wearing a green dress. She was happy.
It was probably because her hair looked nice.
It almost always did. It had taken her years to perfect how to do so. And Becki could do so in many different styles, to boot.
I am not empty headed,to herself, without defiance.
Becki was having dinner with her Mother. In less than half an hour, she would have to be there.
Becki had purchased her Mother a lovely bouquet of daffodils, on her way home from work. These flowers were waiting paitently on the wooden stand that was beside her door. They were wrapped in pink paper; green stems poking out from the bottom.
Becki smiled one last time in the mirror.
Prouder than peaches of herself.
Because her lipstick looked great, too.
Becki picked the yellow blooms up carefully on her way out. She was not wearing a coat, as she walked down the back stairwell and out into the early April evening. Quietly.

Edward Julian Watson adjusted his yellow tie.
The white banner above the entrance of the Glenwood Community Centre said Saturday Night Singles Dance in red lettering.
Edward Julian Watson licked his teeth and stepped inside the glass doors; Eric Clapton's guitar filling his ears. Edward Julian Watson scanned the dimly lit room for a green dress.
Edward Julian Watson would worry about his hair tomorrow.



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AJ in Nashville said…
Weeell, it's nice to see that The Voice has someone to spend time with when he isn't bugging you, Queenie. :)

Nice story. Hope all is well.
Wednesday, 2 March 2005 at 21:02:00 GMT-5
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