◉ 055 | Pubic Hair. Public Hair.

I don't shave.

I trim it.

I usually do it

before

the shower.

With a Philips

petrol green

hair trimmer.

Corded.

I plug it

into the power outlet

inside

the small cabinet

in the top

right corner.

Dad made it

that way.

I stand

in front of

the mirror

following the contours

of my face.

Dark snowflakes

of my beard

fall into

the sink.

Some fall

outside.

I clean it all

and take

my clothes off.

I turn on the left

hot water knob

and balance it

with the right

cold water one.

I look down

at my pubic hair.

Maybe

I should

trim it too.

Turn off the water,

wrap myself

in a towel

and get a sheet of

printer paper

from my bedroom.

I have to hurry up,

otherwise

I'll be late

for school.

I lay it

in the sink

and start trimming

my pubic hair.

Dark snowflakes,

more curly,

fall onto

the paper.

Some fall

outside.

I clean it all

and wrap the paper

carefully.

It looks like

an envelope,

origami style

with no sticky tape.

I take

a quick shower.

Dry my hair.

Dry my body.

Put the clothes on.

Chuck the wrapper

with the trimmed

pubic hair

into my bag.

And leave.

At 7:45 am

I stop

at the top

of Bosanska ulica

waiting for Dino.

We rush

near the theatre,

pass Stari Plac,

and up the hill

towards the school.

We are

two minutes

late.

Professor Kuzmanić

does not like it.

She talks

about some automatisation

processes.

Scribbles some diagrams

with a chalk.

It's boring.

It's so boring.

The wrapper in my bag

comes to mind.

I take it out

slowly,

write on it

NE OTVARAJ!

DO NOT OPEN!

and send it

down the aisle.

Classmates from

the row behind

whisper:

"What's this?"

"I don't know,

someone passed it

from the front,"

I say.

The room

starts moving.

They pass it

to the row behind.

Then a curious soul

Tomislav Dugeč

opens the wrapper.

"What the fuck?"

he says.

Professor Kuzmanić

turns.

Then starts walking

towards him.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, nothing",

says Tomislav,

pushing the wrapper

deep into

his bag.

Pictures and words by Anton

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