sun slants in through the big window at the end of the day. ed sweeps hair trimmings, looking intently down at the floor, a cigarette dangling from his lip. frank sits on one of the vinyl waiting chairs, talking at ed's back.
we are looking down at the top of an eight-year-old's crew cut as clippers buzz its perimeter.
the next day.
ed sits in a waiting-customer chair, wearing his smock. frank paces in front of him. he smacks a fist into his palm.
the distinctive buzz of electric hairclippers bangs in at the cut. ed and frank stand behind their respective chairs, administering haircuts.
booming down toward the fat man.
late afternoon sun slants in.
ed, in his smock, works on a customer.
ed is in his smock again, operating the clippers.