Flash Fiction | Remembrance
What It Means to Go Bald
A fictional story, yet written with true words to remember Art
His face was grey and cracked with age, like the bark of an oak that withstood too many storms. Yet, Tim O'Hare didn't seem stern. Or weathered. He had eyes, pools of warm hazel, that still lit up with a bright, youthful light as he smiled. And that smile conveyed so much. Playfulness, mischief; he was up to something, a secret only he knew.
Tim had no hair left. And when asked about it, he would laugh his hoarse rumble of a laugh and say, “It’s far easier to manage this way." That was simply Tim. The man who saw a bright side to everything, just as his mentor, Art, did.
Art had lost all his hair, too. And while Tim was still young enough to ask, he did.
"What does it mean to go bald in the front?"
"It means you're a thinker." Art replied after a few moments of contemplation. Tim could almost see the wheels turning in Art's mind. It was a question he seemed to take seriously.
"Then what if you go bald in the back? What does that mean?" Tim pressed.
"Well, I think that means you're a lover." Art had been faster that time. His voice carried a subtle confidence. Conviction. The…
