The Beard

Short Story Day 80 of 365

“What do you think, Hon?” Nolan said examining his three-day growth in the bathroom mirror. “Think I should grow it out, you know, for buck season?”

“Buck season? Ha. You don’t even hunt. Your choice. She might like it though.”

“But I could start hunting. Kids used to do it back home back in the day. Say, what do you mean, ‘she might like it?’”

“Wife number 2.”

“You’d be THAT opposed to it, huh?”

“I’ve seen you with a beard, Dearest. I’ll just put it gently. It’s not very becoming. Plus, you don’t want to do what everyone else is doing. Beard, goatee, VanDyke, mutton chops, or every combination thereof. Besides that, your face is itchy and scratchy when you get close to me.”

“So, not even a mustache?”

“What’s her name?”

Nolan said, “I’ve got the razor in my hand now.”

“I thought you’d see it my way.”