Daniel's Barbershop Adventures:Shorter by Faded Dusk

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Author's Note: These are shorter than my typical stories, fair warning. I originally wrote them for a friend, and he encouraged me to share them here. Consider them more as...vignettes than anything else. Less about plot and more about the description of the haircut itself. Hope you enjoy.

There Daniel sits in the barbershop, a huge black cape engulfing him entirely, awaiting the first movement of the clippers. He asked for a barber's choice, and I had the clippers right there on the counter. But the telltale hum of the machine doesn't come. Instead Daniel feels your bangs lifted from his forehead, and half their length is severed at once, dropping lifeless to the cape in front of him. The entire top of his head is shortened like that, and only then does he hear the clippers.

A comb slides into Daniel's hair, and he feels the clippers pass over it, depositing another few inches on the cape. He knows this feeling, the feeling of getting a flattop. Odd that the top is being administered so early, but perhaps just a variety choice. Of no concern.

The clippers turn off, and subsequently the sound of a guard being attached rings through the shop. Daniel is sorely tempted to see what his hair looks like in its current state, but any attempt to look in the mirror is met with gently pushing his chin back to his chest. No peeking.

Later than expected, but still happening, the clippers enter at the nape and climb their way upward, depositing a fresh pile of hair to join the rest, already fallen. As the sides and back are steadily cleared away, Daniel feels two clumps pile up on his shoulders, which are nudged down all at once to truly exhibit how much hair has already fallen. A little maintenance on the top, and the chair is swiveled. There he is, a flattop perched on his head, most of his hair on the cape, looking sharp. But...it's not over. Daniel gulps as I swivel the chair back around.

I instruct him to keep his eyes on his lap as the clippers turn back on, a different guard attached, and he feels them enter at the crown and carve an even shorter path forward to the hairline, dumping the carefully cut strands of the flattop with the rest of the piled hair. The motion repeats, over and over the top of his head, until even just by the breeze on his scalp he knows no hair is longer than a quarter of an inch. Back around the chair goes, and where what feels like only moments earlier there was so much hair, now is barely anything but fuzz, and all that hair is scattered on the cape in front of him, decorating his lap.

I do have to take the cape off to clean up the cut hair of course, so Daniel gets a few minutes to sit in the chair and admire the new cut...

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