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Thirteenth birthday. by JA SOM


Thirteenth birthday.
1972 was a year into my 13.narodením I lived with my mother and 10 year old brother. I loved his blond curly hair to cover their ears and ranged through the collar.
Mom met a man who began to regularly visit us and will soon be our new father. He was a tall man of very proficient respect. He invited us to himself from Friday to Sunday. I very much enjoyed, because on Friday we will celebrate his thirteenth birthday.
Car brought us to his house, where we met with his 15 year old son Michael. For his age and for long hair, his hair was very short. Following is a closer look, we stayed in Michael's room. Soon father called us, we were going for a walk. With desire I expected, all of which will show us, but soon we stopped in front of old-fashioned barbershop, Michael first came in. Father us right at the door imagine that we are the new children. The barbershop waited three older gentlemen, until it comes to their council. I still did not understand what was happening and I was hoping that I was not cut. I sit up, when Michael got up and went to sit in the barber's chair. Barber around him draped white sheets and firmly tied around his neck. Michael leaned his head without saying a word, accompanied barber scissors on his neck and directed them to the top of the head. with an open mouth, I looked at Michael. Your turn, my father announced. After packing in white sheets, I try to tell the barber that you only need to align the ends of your hair, but he gave me the power head in forward bending. On the neck I felt the metal of the scissors, which were directed entirely at the top of the head, back of the neck and are rising up. Soon, already touching my ear right shoulder and scissors and chop me remove hair from the ears and I can see my white head band. I am trying to bite into the language and wake up from a dream, but it was not a dream. I painted over when the barber put the other mirror for me and I saw his head shaved dobiela with about two-centimeter bristles at the top of the head. When you unpack the sails I rubbed his hands behind his head bald. That went to my place and my brother. My eyes welled tears, how I can celebrate his birthday imagined. Michael tried to soothe me. Do not cry, you'll get used, because on Friday about three weeks here we are again. I am afraid to show on Monday at school, such short hair I have never had. A week later we moved to the new father. And Michael's words were confirmed. Exactly three weeks when grown a hair slightly longer we sat in a barbershop ....




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