Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

Clinging to the strap, I observe the gray Chicago day and review my boring life. ‘Thirty-eight’ is fast approaching and all I have to show for it are dead-ends and deadbeats. My mother says I’m a loser magnet.

“Goldie, so many number tens out there,” she will say, “and you find all the zeros.”

She’s not wrong, but she says these things in front of anyone who will listen. Consequently, I don’t visit her much and I avoid her calls…unless I need rent money.

The bus lurches, stops and lurches again, brakes squealing; it is the only bit of excitement in my uninspired life. I can’t help but smile; ten more stops to go.

I feel a tug on my scalp and hear a “snip” next to my right ear. I swivel on the strap to look behind me.

“Hello,” the strange little man says. “I’m Ed.”

“Hello, Ed,” I say, not wanting to be rude. Then I notice the lock of hair in his pudgy little hand.

“From my head, Ed?” I ask politely.

“Are you missing some?”

I check. “Yes, that came from my head.”

“I was so quick, I didn’t think you’d notice. Normally they don’t.”

“They?”

“I collect locks of hair from beautiful women.”

Ed is getting taller by the minute, somehow slimmer, and I must admit, his bold, quick movement was almost erotic.

“So, can I have it?”

“Have what, Ed?” I lean into him. He doesn’t smell as bad as I thought he would.

“Your lock of hair.”

“Well, we can’t put it back, so I guess so,” I tease in my sexiest voice.

“This is my stop,” Ed says. “Thanks for the hair.”

I follow him down the steps. You never know.