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The reason why I'm telling you about this person is not because he is handsome, has great charm, style, has lots of money or a superhero ability. He is very ordinary, really. He is searching. He is a collector. To tell the truth, he doesn't know what he is looking for. Sometimes he just walks the streets of his hometown with no apparent intention and looks into the shops through the big wide windows. His favourite ones are hairdressers. He is obsessed with hair.He has always felt passionate about good hair. Long and shiny. And the smell of freshly washed hair makes him ecstatic. What he always hated was that however many hair products he used, each time the nice smell would evaporate in less than two hours. Whenever someone passed him on the street, and it was usually a woman, he would turn around and imperceptibly sniff the air. He could tell if the person washed their hair that morning or the night before. He didn't even have to see it.
Once, as he was walking around lost in his thoughts, his senses became alert. He closed his eyes. It was the most delightful conditioner he has never smelt. It was the perfect mix of warm milk and honey odour and cinnamon, it reminded him of that little bakery he never failed to avoid, simply because of the fact that it was too appealing. He opened his eyes. He looked around. Suddenly he thought this was too good to be true. Right about then he spotted her. She was about 30 metres in front of him, cycling carelessly. He caught a glimpse of her exactly a second and a half before she got lost behind the corner. First, he thought about chasing her but he knew better. The town's population was neither small nor too big but he wasn't worried about not seeing her again. She stood out. It was just after 2 o'clock on Tuesday in early March and although he didn't realise it, it was the day when his life started making sense.
