Not What He Wanted

Steven was unhappy.  Surely this person new that.  This, demon, this imp, this sprite masquerading as a human had to know that.  It was right there on Steven’s face.  Perhaps that was “her” plan.  Perhaps she knew what she was doing to Steven.  If that was true, his life would continue to be a never ending series of torments.  But, like Atlas, he staggered on.

He had a simple plan.  Show this person what he wanted.  Surely this is was a simple plan, easily executed by even the least evolved among us.  Steven would have done it himself, in fact, if not for a lack of reach.  It had not been that simple, apparently.  His request required consultation, as several of them communed together like a flock of bizarrely attired birds, squawking over the best course of action.

As it began, he knew immediately that all was not well.  The light brown rain that normally fell around him was much heavier than normal this time.  At first he convinced himself that new things were sometimes scary and he just needed to relax.  But, the little jolts of pain that were sent through him did not lie; this was not a good thing. 

He could not force himself to look, as this black tarp draped over him made him feel like some kind of modern day mummy, wrapped in his own frustration.  The mirror was right there, all he had to do was look.  But his heart told him what his eyes did not need to see to know.  He only hoped the damage was not irreparable, he did not want to be seen like this.  People would know, they would know that he only went to this particular site because of a piece of paper he sniped out of a magazine.  A ticket that promised him everything he wanted with very little in return.  Liars.

            He heard the words, he had been dreading,  “all finished,”  as the chair sunk back down to ground level.  He opened his eyes at last, and knew then, what he had long feared.  This was not the haircut he wanted.