a tenth story...'all her hair'

He took his glasses off.   They hung around his neck on a black cord.  He looked at down at his blank notebook and divided the page in two.  He sucked the end of his pen and then told the man to begin.  ‘Me first?’ the man said.  ‘Yes’ he confirmed.  The man crossed his legs and leaned forward, touching his bald patch.  ‘I say what I like about her, and then what I don’t like about her, is that right?’ ‘Yes’ he replied again, ‘please begin’.

The man glanced at his wife.  ‘Well she’s beautiful’ he began, ‘I’ve always admired...’ the man tailed off a moment, and then started again, ‘…beauty’.  He wrote this down under the heading ‘good’.  ‘She’s, um’, the man’s wife pulled her skirt over her knees, she was sitting very upright, ‘she’s funny sometimes’.  ‘Funny sometimes’, he repeated, ‘how do you mean?’  ‘Well, she can make me laugh’ said the man.  ‘Continue’ he encouraged.  The man bit his top lip, and looked at his wife again, she was examining her nails.  ‘I, er, used to think she was loyal’ the man continued.  ‘I am loyal’ interrupted his wife.  ‘You were’ said the man. There was a heavy pause.  ‘Good points please’, he reminded the man.  The man sat back and uncrossed his legs, opened his palms.  ‘I’m done’ the man sighed.

The man’s wife shot him a sideways glance.  ‘How about the bad things?’ he said to the man.  ‘Oh, yes’ said the man and sat forward once more.  He waited.  The man touched his bald patch for a second time then splayed his fingers as if he were about to make a few points or a mark a few things off.  ‘She’s selfish’. ‘You’re selfish’, said the man’s wife again.  ‘Be quiet please’ he warned the man’s wife, ‘your time will come’.  The man nodded and inhaled deeply.  ‘She’s…’ the man coughed, ‘unfaithful…she’s, she doesn’t want children’.  ‘Do you want children?’ he asked the man, trying to help the conversation along, ‘yes’ said the man.  ‘Anything else?’ he said writing ‘selfish’, ‘unfaithful’, and ‘fear of the unknown’ on his notepad.  ‘Little things’ replied the man, ‘do you want to know about them too?’ ‘Are there any in particular?’ he prompted, preparing some bullet points.  The man leaned on the arm of the black leather couch, ‘she can’t cook, and never cleans the shower when it’s all her hair’.

Always the same he thought to himself, casting his eye over what the bald man had talked about so far.  Now it was the turn of the bald man’s wife.  He started another page, dividing it in half, but before he recommenced he asked them both if they could see the plant on his desk.  ‘Yes’ said the bald man’s wife.  ‘Do you know what it is?’.  She replied before the bald man could.  ‘It’s a rose’ she stated correctly.  ‘It is’.  He polished his glasses and put them back on.  ‘Think of it as a metaphor for your relationship’ he told them.  ‘Let me guess’ said the wife.  ‘We’ll come back to it later’ he told her, ‘Ok’ she said.  ‘We will’ he assured her.  She pinned her hair back.  ‘Is it my turn now then?’ she demanded.