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My Hairy Adventure

My story started at 9.15 in our cosy little cottage on the very tip of England. It was a pleasant enough day and I was going out to play football when, “Larry! Come here a second.” I went to see what my dad wanted and it turned out he thought I needed to cut my jet-black hair. I agreed because I figured if I went out in this weather with long hair I would probably overheat.

So my dad and I took a stroll to the hair dressers where my favourite barber was waiting. His name was Mario; he was half Italian, balding, with a deep booming voice, sausage like fingers, a plump belly and a moustache with more hair in it than there was on his head. It didn’t take long - I told him what I wanted. He cut it to that style. My dad paid him and then it was time to go home. Unfortunately it was uphill all the way and it was starting to get dark, we were out of breath and tired when we got back. Luckily, mum had put on one of her completely unrivalled hotpot’s and my mouth was watering as soon as we stepped in the door. After dinner it was straight to bed for I had a football match in the morning.

“Time to get up you’ve got football” were the words my mum woke me with “You’ve got 10 minutes to be there.” Then it was a quick dash to be ready. But when I got to the bathroom I saw a sight, such a terrible sight, that I knew I would not be going to football! My hair was down to my chin! I was too scared to call my mum so I quickly yet shakily got my dads hair clippers and cut my hair till it was really short ,but I could see it growing before my eyes. Scared and confused I ran from the house, the hair already entering my vision, I decided to go to the bus stop they had a map there.

Panting from running I arrived at the bus stop to find a fair haired woman in an black suit standing there alone. That’s strange I thought, normally this place is packed at this time. I looked at the map and saw an abandoned warehouse when the woman suddenly turned around and said to me “You’re not the first its happened to you know. Many others have had this ailment and strangely they were all in your family. A government organization realised that if you go to New-Zealand and drink from a river half way up Mount Cook the curse should never pester your blood line again. So will you take up this quest?”

“Yes. There’s nothing here for me my parents will probably sell me to a zoo. Goodbye!” and I stepped onto the bus that had just pulled in.
 

Comments that people have made about this blog post

Comment 1 Comment by Alfie G on 24 Feb 12 at 9:35am | Quote this comment
Awesome story Joe i love how you described Mario the hairdresser. :lol:
Comment 2 Comment by Harry W on 24 Feb 12 at 9:44am | Quote this comment
A very imaginitive story Joe :lol:
Comment 3 Comment by Mr Herring on 24 Feb 12 at 4:41pm | Quote this comment
Joe - a story with some excellent description and use of speech punctuation. However, I wonder whether you could think of a better ending? It seems a bit abrupt to me - what do you think?

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