It’s been a hot, humid summer. By sunrise the atmosphere is laden with political posturing, by the afternoon the sky ablaze with fiery protests. And August is the worst. The air chokes with the incessant droning of know-it-all pundits, spin doctors, and ill-informed sycophants. In this cauldron our hair becomes a burden: sticky, messy, and limp.
Opportunities though, are just around the corner. Within the month, the days will shorten and the evenings cool. You will carry a refreshing beverage named Pleasantville to the porch and watch the sun set. Then the moon will rise. Someone—perhaps your lover—will remark, it may be time for a new haircut. You will nod and make an appointment for early September.
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