The Quiet Barber -the Microfiction

He didn't like to talk to his customers. It wasn't because he had nothing to say: he had a great interest in people and he had a life that was full; anecdotal and at times, crazy. He could regale his customers animatedly if he chose to, like a lauded entertainer and they would laugh, wide-eyed, at his witty, well-delivered tales.

But he stayed silent.

He liked to focus on his art. For that was how he saw it. For him, it wasn't just about cutting hair. It was about the result.

He'd got into hairdressing by accident, at university when he was studying Philosophy and International Law and got himself a Saturday job to pay for books and beer. He was there to sweep hair and keep the customers lubricated with coffee, but often he watched, fascinated as with precision and dexterity, people were transformed from unkempt, unruly, hirsute individuals into shiny gods and goddesses of the street.

It wasn't long before he tried it on a housemate down on funds and he marvelled at the way hair was so compliant and how transformative the process was. He also liked the motion of the method, the movement of his arms and the angles of his elbows infusing him with a feeling of the sculptor.

He was more than a barber: he was an Artist.

He never tired of it but he did tire of the chatter. It was distracting.

When, one day, a particularly ebullient customer had jollied him into more ribald stories, a minor slip caused a correction to be made, something which had never happened previously, and he hated that it had happened. From that day, his sole focus would always be the hair and his craft. The customer never noticed the slip but did notice the silence that descended.

At first, it was unnerving. Some customers thought they had done something wrong; not all could relax into the silence.

But many loved the moment of quiet introspection the barber offered; a reprieve from "small" talk and a chance to sit and contemplate and marvel as a skill was demonstrated before them and they knew they were safe with this solid, silent man.

***

366 words

I hate having my hair cut. I would love a quiet barber.

This links to an acrostic I wrote for fun and for the challenge but mainly for fun called "The Quiet Barber - the Poem".

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