This was a year ago. I miss my long, sun bleached hair.
I’m debating on growing it back out and moving to a small island off mainland.
I’ll surf, swim and fish. I’ll live off the land and eat bananas. My skin will turn a roasted almond color and I will age significantly. My beard will grow out until my hair hits it’s terminal length, and then dread.
I will be happy. 10 summers will pass but new technology will never fully reach me.
One day, in my late 60’s, a boat will come to shore with a family on vacation.
I will offer them my shells and trinkets I made whilst living on the island.
The mother will look at me, but only a glance. “I feel like I know you from somewhere” she will say with a perplexed look on her face while shielding her brow from the sun.
I will laugh and offer them freshly cracked coconuts. “I used to have shorter hair” I’ll say under my breath.
They will laugh and enjoy the shade. They will swim and splash in the shallows.
The sun will go down and they will sail back to the mainland.
Just before she goes to sleep it will dawn on her.
She liked this post decades ago.
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