Flash Fiction Link: Imported from Spain by Mark Tulin

When Miles arrived at work, the office staff greeted him with funny looks, some were either giggling or bent over in laughter. He checked the fly of his pants, rubbed his mouth thinking that a part of the donut was stuck to his beard.

Imported from Spain 

Imported from Spain, by Mark Tulin
19/6/2018
 
Miles usually removed the hair from a styrofoam head on the dresser. He brushed the dark brown strands that his barber told him were imported from Spain. Miles would spray the locks with a detangler and make sure that there were no knots. He fluffed the hair with a pick to make it look windswept and natural.

He would then apply double-edge tape on the base of the hair and some special latex glue to make sure that the hair would hold in place. Miles would carefully plant the hairpiece squarely on the crown of his head, trying to seal it to the exact same spot every day, pressing the edges with his two middle fingers and holding the unit down for at least thirty seconds.

But not this day. This day Miles was in a hurry. He grabbed a donut from the refrigerator and poured the rest of the coffee from the coffee maker into his mug. Miles then rushed out of the house baldheaded, forgetting about the hair that was still sitting on the styrofoam head on his bedroom dresser. He was expecting a promotion at work and couldn’t be late for his 9 o’clock appointment with his supervisor. He jumped into his Honda Civic at 7:45 a.m. and sped off.

When Miles arrived at work, the office staff greeted him with funny looks, some were either giggling or bent over in laughter. He checked the fly of his pants, rubbed his mouth thinking that a part of the donut was stuck to his beard.

He put his briefcase in his office. It was almost 9 a.m. He hurried to the men’s room to make sure he looked okay. He did a double take as he checked himself in the mirror. He couldn’t believe that he forgot to put on his hair. Now the person who stared back at him was almost unrecognizable. He touched his bare scalp in disbelief, about to cry. Then he took a deep breath and got himself together. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. Miles told himself to view his baldhead differently, not as a liability but as something that could work in his favor. He slicked back his eyebrows, plucked a few hairs from his ears and left the men’s room feeling lighter and more confident.