Thursday, 4 October 2012

October Flash - Day 3

The Flash Fiction Project at Google+ has something new going on! There will be a visual prompt for every day in October, and I'm going to try to write a (very) short piece for it every day as well. Due to time zone differences, I'll try writing and posting mine early in the morning, so it's a day after the original post for me, but still the same for them.

Let the fun begin! Here is the prompt for today:

"Dad! Is that you as a boy? You look hilarious!"
"Thank you very much, Christian..."
"Sorry. How did that happen?"
"Don't say sorry if you don't mean it. You want to hear that story? Well, then...
When I was a boy, there lived a teenage pop-star called Justin Bieber. He was probably the most popular boy in the whole world"
"Did you hate him for that?"
"Oh, yes. But don't interrupt, OK?
He came into town once, for a concert and autograph session. Between the two, he stayed backstage, well away from all the crazy girls who were screaming and fainting at him all the time. There was one local girl, though, and I won't tell you who, that had hidden backstage well before he arrived. She knew the place by heart and had no problem hiding from all security measures.
That girl crept up to Bieber once he was alone, and quickly cut herself a curl of his hair. You know, he had very nice blonde hair, and his haircut was very popular with the kids.
Of course, Bieber couldn't perform with a hole in his haircut, so the local hairdresser was quickly brought in: your great-aunt Muriel. She repaired his hairdo best she could and with that saved the concert.
Afterwards, though, she was obsessed with that hairdo she had done for the only famous person she'd ever met. While other parents prevented her from giving it to their children, she was family and could do what she wanted with me. I hated it. There was only one way...
My best friend provided me with some horrible colours and hairspray, and we set to work on my new hairstyle together. It only lasted for a day, since my parents wouldn't stand for it any longer, but at least they got the message: they made aunt Muriel stop giving me that haircut I didn't want."
"Still, they kept that horrible picture of you."
"They thought it was a funny memory."
 "Hmm. I think I've seen a curl of blonde hair lying around somewhere as well..."

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