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writing prompt 10

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Mar. 4th, 2010 | 08:15 am
listening to: Polvo - Action vs. Vibe

A bad haircut walks into a bar.
He's accompanied by a small face with unsettlingly wide-set eyes. The chapped lips a few inches below the bad haircut ask for a drink. The bartender a few feet away from the bad haircut looks straight into the wide-set eyes and tells them to get out. The bad haircut has been sitting on a nudist. This is not a joke. The bad haircut goes home. He takes the man with him.
The bartender, with hardly a haircut at all, goes home too, but home is different for him. Home is different for the nudist. Home is home is home is not but we all go, go home.
An unfounded fear settles in the heart of man -- he is born, he dies, and it's all Choose-Your-Own-Adventure here, il a peur, tout la vie, tout le monde, on a peur. Fear cuts his hair, fear undresses him, fear closes his eyes and sends him out the door and pulls him along, he says "what have I got to lose?" because time is a plate full of spaghetti. He's already clumsy and reeking by the time his bad haircut reaches the bartender's no-haircut. He's been miserable and clumsy and reeking all night and the night before that. An unfounded fear won't let him sleep and a bad haircut keeps him awake, and he is miserable, naked and reeking, but there is no shame; ho looks at the noodles dripping from the clock and asks what he has left to lose and he says big fat nothing at all.
The bartender goes home but home is not home, and he is not miserable but he is trying.

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