Khalid Ajlouny

The Stage
Being an undersized creature, among all those complete men, the barber had to lay a plank across the armrests, to gain proper access to my head. Waiting my turn, I wondered when I will become man enough to make my old man proud, and spare myself this humiliation. Though no one around seemed to be causing me to feel that way. Moreover, my father was relatively respected in that circle at that time. Or at least I thought so.

While being scissored upon the altar, I used to stretch my neck and back in an elongation attempt, but to no avail.

The Dream
Every time I entered the shop, the first thing to catch my sight was that wooden beast in the corner. I'd then reassure myself: some day I will enter this shop, and proudly sit my rear flat on the leather. Even better, I'll watch fresh victims come in, witness the show, and ignore all their futile stretching attempts.

Afterwards
Unlike major dreams, this one will definitely come true; it's just a matter of time. All I have to do is stay alive. But when it did, it was no longer a dream. I didn't even notice it coming true.

The barber was long dead (at that time he was already all grey), and the shop had closed. Concepts such as hair care and manhood have taken completely different forms. And I don't go to places with my father anymore (we hardly even speak).

Are childhood dreams silly, or do we slowly loose our capacity to taste? I'm not sure.