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Fantasie

Phantasie ist nicht Ausflucht. Denn sich etwas vorstellen, heißt, eine Welt bauen, eine Welt erschaffen.

Eugène Ionesco

24.1.14 00:07


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Third

The man in the wig


Once upon a time there lived a man in a town where all people were wearing wigs all the time. The man, having enough hair for another ten of him couldn’t wear a wig. His hair was just too big and every time he tried to cut it the scissors would burst into a thousand pieces and so it grew endlessly. The people in the town didn’t like the man because they were jealous of his thick hair and this hurt him very much. They themselves didn’t have any hair because a witch had put a hex on them for being very vain and narcissistic.
Somehow the spell hadn’t worked on the man though which made him to an outsider. That’s why he chose to live in a small cottage outside the town.

One night he was sitting in his armchair by the window facing the dark outlines of the town. Everyone was sleeping but something kept him awake. Maybe it was the fact that the children had made fun of him again. But where did this ticklish feeling in his stomach come from? He had never felt anything like this before. It was a nice feeling but he was also scared because he somehow knew something would happen within the next few minutes. And truly something did happen. First there was a loud bang followed by a noise that sounded like a million marbles falling on the ground. A moment later upstairs something fell on the ground and broke; then it was silent again. The man froze in his movement. Suddenly he caught sight of a bright light approaching at an incredible pace from the town and a second later a fairy was sitting on his lap. “Well, well, well. Sorry about the noise my little helpers made. I hope they didn’t scare you. But anyways, are you happy?” He threw his hair back. “Well, actually I should be happy, ” answered the man. “But everybody makes fun of me because of my hair.” The fairy sighed and wove its hair through its fingers. “Well, well, well. What can I do?” “Could you spirit my hair away?”,the man asked instantly. “Well, well, well. Are you sure about this?” “Oh yes, please.”

This was one sentence he would regret for the rest of his life.
The next day everybody in town woke up and took a look in the mirror in bewilderment. The witch had died and with her death the spell was reversed. Their hair was growing again and nobody had to wear a wig anymore from this point on. Well, someone had to wear a wig for the rest of his life and even though he had given his hair to be a part of the towns community the man stayed an outsider. From this day on he was called the man in the wig and nothing had changed about his fate. What a pity!

(09.11.2009)

20.1.14 22:08


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