“Exploring life through fiction, together.”

I couldn’t grow a beard until my third year at uni. I could only manage a halo of near invisible blonde fluff. That summer, something switched, and I reveled in my newfound manliness. I strode back to campus, but before I could say hello, my friends were clamouring for me to shave my new treasure off.

Fiction Bite - Dad’s car and two cans

“Your beard’s too scratchy.” Beneath them, the town was an orange glow. His hand fumbled around her bra, searching for a way in.

“I shaved yesterday.” Her lips still tasted like cider. She pulled back just as his hand touched breast.

“You’ll give me a rash.”

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” She pushed away his still searching hand.

“You’re not the one kissing sandpaper.”

He sighed.

“Fine, no kissing. I’m still getting laid though?”

She laughed. He swore and drove her home.

Quote of the Week

“I fantasize and idealize myself as Bugs Bunny, but I know deep down I'm Daffy Duck.” — Patton Oswalt

Book recommendation - The Adventures of Johnny Bunko: The Last Career Guide You’ll Ever Need by Daniel H. Pink [Manga, Self-Help]

Final Words

I gave in. Half a dozen friends shouting me down was enough to knock my confidence then. After graduation, the beard returned in wild-man glory. For years, it graced my face. Now, if I’ve not shaved that morning my daughter shouts “Daddy, too much beard!”. I trudge off to shave and wonder. Have I changed as much as I thought?

With Love,

Josiah

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