Hair Inside My Ear | Fiction Friday

Prompt: Isn’t it weird?

There’s a hair inside my ear.

I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.

But there’s a hair inside my ear,

Not soft and supple, barely there,

But firm and thick

And as I tease it with my finger

It pokes back.

Don’t get me wrong.

My finger is stronger.

My finger pushes and bends

The hair, which fights and fails

Yet never tires.

There’s a hair inside my ear.

Not the long and thin kind,

The sort that one day grows faster

Than it’s fine, invisible sisters

It’s grown fat and insistent

And doesn’t want to go.

It grew up one night

In that arcing satellite area

Where my finger slowly circles

When I am bored.

And there this hair stood

And asserted, “You are old”.

I am too old for this.

I am too old to fantasize

About new sexual partners

Or early mornings in new places.

I am too old to take a chance

Or even make a change.

I am not the finger wandering

Aimlessly in search of amusement.

I am the fat hair mysteriously

Taken root where it is not supposed

To be. I cannot be removed

Without intentional plucking.

I know it’s gross to tell you,

There’s a hair inside my ear,

Because we’re not supposed to

Talk about things personal,

Or share our shared experiences.

I know I can’t be the only one

To make this discovery but

No one has prepared me for it.

I suppose I’ll sit and poke this

Hair inside my ear

just a bit


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