This is my inaugural bash at the Monday Finish the Story challenge. It was a really struggle to keep to 150 words, but I managed it. Thanks to Barbara W. Beacham for the photographic inspiration.
“The Mayor and the town manager waved as their next victim approached.”
“Mr Jones,” grins the mayor,bchains jangling with faux-bonhomie, “Planning application isn’t it?”
Jones blushes. He’s rehearsed this but the words won’t come.
The town manager interrupts. “Speak up, man?”
“I’d like to grow a beard,” says Jones
“A beard?” Ask the mayor, hirsute, approvingly.
“It’d make me look sophisticated,”
The major purses his lips, “You’ve got tricology reports?”
Jones nods. “Mild peppering.”
“Bald patches?” Asks the major.
“Left cheek,” acknowledges Jones.
The mayor smiles sympathetically. but the clean-shaven, manager scowls, “I’m doubtful, Jones. We’ve the aesthetic of the town to consider.”
The major raises an eyebrow, “Aesthetic?”
“Oh yes, your worship,” says the manager, “We can’t risk looking like a serial killers’ convention again.”
“I could wear my red jumpsuit,” offers Jones, “The one with the bells.”
The manager shakes his head, “Permission denied. Now, push off. We’ve got Mr O’Malley at 3, wants to grow a combover.”