Not grey, but white. It's not all white. Just from my bottom lip to just above my adams apple. Somewhere in the middle, just under my chin is an island of black. Like one of those maps you see of Red squirrel colonies surrounded by greys.
I don't know when this hapened. I noticed a bit of a peppery look on unshaven days but now I've grown it...
The thing is, it's on it's own. The rest of my hair, all of it, is still black. Some distinguishing grey in the head but nothing like this sea of white on my chin: It's quite fascinating. I know it's an invading army. Soon, I'm sure, it will march, Genghis Khan like, up my sideburns and onwards. I can see the scouts already.
I grew it to disguise a slight chubbiness in the cheeks from busy eating and little recent aerobic excercise. There's a slight paunch too. Perhaps by Christmas the only thing I'll be saying is Ho, Ho, Ho, and delivering presents down chimneys. I know this happens, I've seen the film.
Every time I look in the mirror, I stare in horrified fascination. I should really shave it off and get rid of the transplanted chin look but I can't, it's hypnotic.
"Do you dye your hair then", someone asked: Well no, not yet, I thought. I can see people talking to me, reflecting the same fascinated stare I see in the mirror. 'How the hell has he got a white beard', I can see them thinking and I'm thinking 'I don't know, it's quite incredible isn't it, I think so too'.
I don't know when this hapened. I noticed a bit of a peppery look on unshaven days but now I've grown it...
The thing is, it's on it's own. The rest of my hair, all of it, is still black. Some distinguishing grey in the head but nothing like this sea of white on my chin: It's quite fascinating. I know it's an invading army. Soon, I'm sure, it will march, Genghis Khan like, up my sideburns and onwards. I can see the scouts already.
I grew it to disguise a slight chubbiness in the cheeks from busy eating and little recent aerobic excercise. There's a slight paunch too. Perhaps by Christmas the only thing I'll be saying is Ho, Ho, Ho, and delivering presents down chimneys. I know this happens, I've seen the film.
Every time I look in the mirror, I stare in horrified fascination. I should really shave it off and get rid of the transplanted chin look but I can't, it's hypnotic.
"Do you dye your hair then", someone asked: Well no, not yet, I thought. I can see people talking to me, reflecting the same fascinated stare I see in the mirror. 'How the hell has he got a white beard', I can see them thinking and I'm thinking 'I don't know, it's quite incredible isn't it, I think so too'.