Hair on my Chess

My hair was starting to resemble an untidy hedge that was enticing excited feathered birds; therefore it was time for a trim. For a change I decided to change from my usual barber and what the hell I thought, I’ll ask for the whole lot to be shaved off.

Fed up with walking through the tried and trusted streets I took the road less travelled by. This could make a difference and I wasn’t wrong. Frost was on the ground, daylight disappeared and birds of prey swooped in the air above me. Fearing for my safety I found sanctuary in this dark wilderness as I espied a red and white pole which beckoned me inside to a barber’s shop.

There were seven white men sitting on seats getting their heads shaved by seven hair stylists. An eighth coiffeur invited me to sit on an empty chair that was numbered D2. When I was sat in said chair the trimmer went to work at my hair with his bladed hands.

I must have dozed off because when I woke sitting directly in front of me in the mirror were eight black men completely bald. Startled and afraid suddenly I found myself being pushed into the mirror toward the black men. A hairless black man also moved forward so that he was diagonally opposite me at my right side. I could feel his breath on my face.

Then I heard a scraping shuffling noise and the man who was sitting on chair E2 had entered the mirror and looked menacingly at the black man. Strangely his chair now signalled E4 but inside I felt better and thanked my comrade for his help. What a Musketeer he was! All for one and all that.

But my relief was short lived. Angrily the black man on chair E5 lunged at me with a brutal attack and next thing I knew I was back on Elm Street, one of my trusty streets. My first thought was…Englund gambit and I was the pawn that was sacrificed. The wind was biting into my baldy head and so were Nightmares about Freddy Krueger.

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6 Comments on “Hair on my Chess”

  1. JM Says:

    Hello, TheRoyalist,

    I must admit that it’s years since I enjoyed a good nightmare, or even had one. But nearly all dreams seem to have the same kind of crazy logic to them. Some say that this was our state of consciousness before we became fully self-conscious – existing in a sort of half-way house where all is (as we should say) scary, Gothic and surreal (or sub-real?).

    I’ve skipped through a few of your tales, and I’ll be back for more. They’re very good.

  2. theroyalist Says:

    Hello Jamie,

    You can call me JW if you prefer. The Royalist name change is a long story.

    My stories are not really nightmares more uncreative mystical daydreams. The nightmare scenario is if I start writing poetry again. As you know I ain’t no Marya or Sullivan.

    Thank you for the kind and acutely apparitional words; you have always been my favourite philosopher.


    • JM Says:

      Morning, JW,

      I suspected that they were not really records of nightmares (but who can be sure?) – but they do have that disturbing, rickety stream-of-consciousness truth about them. Therein lies their charm.

      And poetry? You must get back to it. Odd Odes. You’ll scare Marya out of her wits, and that will be my cue to rush in with my overwhelming chivalry to comfort her – sharing my Smarties with her and all that. Ooops! I bet she reads your blogs, so I must say no more.

      It’s kind of you say I have reached the Favoured Philosopher level – all nonsense, of course…


      • theroyalist Says:

        Good evening Jamie,

        Nothing nonsensical about your philosophy as you don’t seem to be worrying about Sullivan being scared. Chivalry? You will not win fair maiden’s heart with Smarties. A last Rolo is the answer. And remember she only thinks it is the last Rolo for you have four or five in your back pocket for later.

        If the lovely Marya ever reads this she will have a right good old laugh at both of us.

        Yours in apprehension

  3. atomsofstars Says:

    Hello JW …. Gosh! All unsuspecting I was 🙂 What can I say but thank you for the fun … 🙂

    btw .. I enjoyed your nightmarish blog despite never having seen the film versions alluded to here .. I often read reviews but rarely watch the films themselves. I’d have nightmares …

  4. JM Says:

    Talk of the Angel, and up she turns. Is nowhere safe from all this goodness? A chap can take only so much of sweetness and light. 🙂

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