I am growing a beard. Actually, I have been too engrossed and haven’t shaved in a while. I slept little again last night. At one point, I was staring into the bathroom mirror not really looking but focusing more on the overall than the minute. Then, my face took center stage and I noticed … beard.
Automatically I reached for shaving soap and razor and lathered. I stopped short of shearing myself. I thought for moment, blade poised inches away and then put down the razor. I looked again at the goat-like visage in the mirror.
Beard. Then, why I have no idea, I thought of sports, how some athletes refuse to shave during the season. It is supposed to bring luck. Why? I have no idea. But the concept began to formulate and I have made a decision. I, too, will not shave until I have an answer.
Once I have come to any conclusion of whom or what I was, I will shave. Hopefully this will not take long because I am a hairy S.O.B. and already have begun scratching incessantly at my face.
So, should my image sport shiny cheeks, you will know I have found an answer.
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