Big Hair (Flash Fiction)

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It was a very large class; with thousands of students in attendance. The five thousand seater Amphitheatre was filled to the edges. Everyone was attentive as the philosophy professor expounded on what philosophy meant. It was Philosophy 101, a course compulsory for all students in the Faculty of Arts and Faculty of Social Sciences. Okay, not everyone. There was this guy who was busy scribbling words in his notebook.

This guy was scribbling what he felt were awesome words of poetry. He was so engross that he didn’t noticed the girl beside him was staring at him. That wouldn’t had bothered him. He was used to being the nerd, so attention of such kind was not strange to him. He continued scribbling until the lady touched him by the side.

“Why are you not writing?” she asked.

It then occurred to him that the professor had begun to dictate brief notes. He looked up so see large eyes staring at him. There were located in a smoothly curved face with a very big hairdo. He didn’t know what to make of the question. He didn’t know her.

“Nothing.” He replied and returned to his scribbling.

“What are you writing/?”

He looked up again to see the large eyes peering at him. For a second, he thought he saw a sparkle. He was fascinated. Perhaps, this was his opportunity to have a girlfriend. He had a girl he was hoping to be close with but she was far away. Besides, it wasn’t every time a girl showed interest in him.

“A poem.” He began, thinking of the best possible light he could put himself in. “There is this contest; a poetry contest. The winner walks away with one hundred thousand naira.” He explained. He felt he saw another sparkle when he mentioned the money.

“So you are going to win?”

He smiled. He didn’t consider himself a very good poet, but yes, he hoped to win. Instead, he said “something like that.” He didn’t want to sell himself short. He offered to show her the poem but she indicated she wasn’t into poetry. He decided to let that pass.

She refocused on the class and he went back to his poem. As he scribbled, he couldn’t get her large eyes out of his head. He liked the way her face looked too. He wanted to continue talking to her but he didn’t know how to do it. He paused and thought for a while.

He turned to a fresh page and began to work on a new poem. In the poem, he described the class and then the girl. He spent a while on her features: her hair, her face and her eyes. Many years later, he would consider the features below the neck as attractive but in that innocent state, he was only concerned with the region above her neck.

Soon, it was the end of the class and she was about to leave. He wanted her phone number but he as too shy to ask her. He wanted to show her the poem he wrote, hoping to impress her. In the end, he simply murmured his goodbyes and watch her walk away.

Five years later, he types this and posts on steemit. He never sees the girl again