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Writer's pictureThe Dreamweaver

Il Barbiere* | The Dreamweaver


I was overbooked and overwhelmed at my new barbershop on the grounds of an Italian villa I had recently purchased.


My evening appointment didn't show up, so I took a walk-in customer, a sharply-dressed young man.


Just I was sitting him down in my chair and serving him a glass of bourbon, my evening appointment arrived, to my surprise, in a wheelchair.


I told him that I had taken another customer but I'd be able to cut his hair at the same time.


He agreed and asked if I had any bourbon but when I went to fill another glass for him, I found the bottle was empty.


I ran into the village to all the restaurants and no one had any bourbon so I siphoned some Scotch from a bottle that was hanging upside down at a bar and returned to the man in the wheelchair who I helped onto a leather armchair.


I returned to the young man and started cutting his hair, soon realizing that I had forgotten to put a cape over his clothes which were now covered in his thick black hair.


Not being able to find clean cape anywhere, I ran back into the village and stole a tablecloth from a restaurant, rushed back and quickly threw it over the young man before he was able to realize that it was a tablecloth.


I had finally finished the young man's haircut and when I returned to the man in the wheelchair, I noticed he had already had his hair cut and was waiting to be picked up.


When I asked him who cut his hair, the man said, "Sam did."


I suddenly remembered Sam had been working in the back room and I went back there to thank him for giving the man in the wheelchair a haircut and Sam said the man used to be his customer but liked the way I cut his hair better.


Sam walked back into the main shop and wheeled the man away. As they were walking out the door, Sam turned around, looked at me and smiled.


Then I woke up.



*Originally manifested on September 3, 2019.

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