Not all work days are exciting. Most days
little happens. There was one such day at the Sportsplex where I had some time
to kill. I threw off my staff tank top and dove in, eager to do anything to
fill the time. Laps seemed just the thing. Twenty or so laps later, I was done
with swimming, and all I wanted to do was laze about in the hot pool. I grabbed
a flutter board, and once in, rolled and rolled, clutching the board to my
chest, pure meditation, then I half climbed out to throw off some heat. Moments
passed with me in a torpid state, and then I felt a finger caress my scalp. A
little surprised, I spun my head round and saw Astra Senkus looking down at me.
“You’re starting to lose your hair,” she said.
“What?” is about all I could think of to say. Complete shock. I wanted to rush to a mirror to check. But that would have been the height of uncool.
“Yeah,” she said. “Your hair is starting to thin out a little bit up there.”
I was 17. Too early, in my imagination, for someone to begin to thin out. I was wrong.
“What?” is about all I could think of to say. Complete shock. I wanted to rush to a mirror to check. But that would have been the height of uncool.
“Yeah,” she said. “Your hair is starting to thin out a little bit up there.”
I was 17. Too early, in my imagination, for someone to begin to thin out. I was wrong.
