Hermit Hair Piece

I met a hermit walking my way while on my way to the grocery store. He asked me for some change, and I told him no. Then he slapped me in the face and said, “Don’t you ever tell me no like that again!” I slapped him back, and said, “Okay!”

He told me his name was missing, and that he was stupid. I misunderstood him deliberately and called him Miss Thing, then added that if he was stupid then what is he now? His eyes shot open in horror and darted right back at me, “Bull’s eye, man! Bull’s eye! I was stupid,” he growled, “WAS! And now I’m now!”

“Now you are!” I agreed. “You are now, not what you were before!”

The hermit scratched a scab on his head which flaked off as it was pinched between his fingerskin and fingernail. He held it up to the sunlight and showed it to me. “Behold! A piece of me has formed an end! And today I have a witness! Make a wish!”

I wished for a silly thing. I wished for a naked man to be laying on one of the conveyor counters at the checkout lanes, using his toes to move himself back or forward. I was thinking about how I would imagine such a scene—about how it would look and whether or not the naked man would be attractive—and just when I was about to see him scooting back and forth, the hermit whispered, “Snap out of it man! Make your wish quick before my nail loses it’s grip! Uup! There it goes! You better follow it! It leads you to where your wish will come true!”

“Which way did it go? I missed it!” It was windy and there were all kinds of scabs flying around already. The hermit pointed towards my nose and coughed in my face without covering up his mouth. Some of his spit flipped out on my jacket and started soaking into it. It burrowed deep into the fibers and hid there forever. “Miss Thing, I see it now, I’ve got to go chase it before it gets away!”