Almost a year ago I decided that it was time to visit Budapest,. Almost once a year I spend at least a week in Prague, strolling around in the old town and enjoying once or twice a classical concert. The rest of time I spend in art shops buying graphic art for my gallery in Holland, sometimes some antique goods and last but not least I buy dozens of classical CDs, which are ridiculously cheap there. To get some rest some days are spent outside the town, walking through the forests or along the small rivers.

I had a program like that in mind when I arrived at Budapest airport. At the last moment I brought a pair of boots and mountain shoes as there had been an extremely heavy snowfall in the week before I came there. I expected that it might be possible to easily find a private room at one of those offices that you can find everywhere. Usually I spend lots of money during such a business holiday, but I dislike to lose all my money in expensive hotels, where I do not much more than sleeping, after long tiring days. I am much more happy to use that money buying nice things or listening in concert halls.

To my chagrin the offices at the airport could offer only the most expensive things and People were busy to suggest that nothing less expensive was available in town. I am used to this kind of lying and took a bus to the town, where all the streets were covered with a thick layer of snow. Moreover it was extremely cold, not the condition that I like very much when I walk for hours in a town to observe street life and nice buildings. It was extremely quiet and I realized that Saturday afternoon most shops, offices etc were closed. In my travel guide it was mentioned that there were some offices where you might rent private rooms at the bigger railway stations. But the ones mentioned were closed already, but happily I found somewhere a combination of a shop and room office.

The owner, during the daytime also a teacher of mathematics, had one room at her own house available and with some explanations I understood how to go there by metro.

At the last moment I discovered that she sold the international Budapest Post, an important source of information for foreigners like me, who want to visit the music halls, museums etc. In the metro I noticed that just like in Prague life seemed to have changed much with all the advertisements for western companies. I even noticed several girls with extremely short hair, something I usually like very much. I must confess that since I was a young boy, I have been interested in short women’s hair and one of the things I almost automatically do when I enter a train, a shop, or any place on the street is to look for shorthaired women. One of the things I like to do is to imagine how a girl or woman will look with short hair. It is very obvious for me that most women with a good very short haircut are much more attractive, as far as the whole thing is not spoiled by the most terrible perms or other crazy things created by hairdressers that look themselves already horrible. Usually that type of female hairdressers are the ones that spoil their own natural faces at the same time with the most horrible makeup.

Anyway I like to walk around and am happy when I can find a nice place in a coffee house etc opposite a hairdresser or barber. Usually I visit one or more times one of the local barbers myself, particularly the old-fashioned ones, to feel the local atmosphere. But I wondered if I might have enough courage this time, with the low temperatures outside, even though I prefer a crewcut myself. But at least  a good shavefeeling the long knife of e good barber should be a nice thing.

I easily found the house where my room should be and with one of the keys I entered a very big and old building, where I discovered with some difficulty an old lift which brought me to the sixth floor. I found the flat and a reasonable room, with a  bed that as usually was somewhat short for me. There was an old radio and a lot of information about Budapest a.o the Budapest post

Extremely informative was a guest book, where all kind of guests had written nice things about my host, the teacher. But more important, it was also a rich source of information about restaurants. To my surprise one of the guests even described a haircut at an old barbershop, but the best for me was that they indicated an excellent small restaurant in a street that seemed to be quite near. I was very sleepy and the only thing I wanted to do that evening was to take some food and a bath after this long tiring day.

I took the Budapest Post with me, went to the restaurant and ordered a meal that was excellent and in between I studied the cultural agenda. There were enough concerts in the big classical concert halls, but not the enormous amount of chamber music that I expected or hoped for. Anyway next day there seemed to be a nice instrumental concert in the famous opera house with a famous violinist and I decided to try to get a ticket for that concert.

When I returned I met again the house owner, who promised me all the information that I needed, as far as I wished her help. I told her that I brought all kind of travel guides, but that usually the first days I just walk around in town.

I took my bath that seemed not very clean at first, but the strange colours seemed to be the result of the use during many decades. I stepped in bed and within a short time I slept very well till the next morning.

When I awoke it seemed to be a clear day and soon I left the house walking to a nearby station, where they sold sandwiches and after some cups of strong coffee I was ready for my first walk in the town. It seemed that nowadays most of the shops were closed on Sunday, only some shops in the main street in the town center were open.

Soon I discovered that a big CD shop was open and my first search for classical music of Hungarian composers started. As usual prices of the CDs were much lower and even CDs of some western companies were cheap. I was almost alone in the shop and noticed that an attractive young woman of about 35-40 years entered the shop. Her hair was already rather grey and she had it in a long ponytail, showing a beautiful face with a very fine bone structure.

As far as I understood she asked for a CD that had been ordered with cello music of Franchomme on a disc of a well-known label. Some minutes ago I saw that CD, which I have myself and I like that music very much. The shop girl seemed to say that the CD had not been received and the woman looked already rather disappointed. I hesitated for some moments, because I was not very sure that the request really concerned this CD. But the woman was really happy when I showed her the CD, while I told her that I liked cello music and liked this music of Franchomme very much. Of course it is not the most perfect music like Bach’s cello suites, but…. The woman of course recognised me as a foreigner and asked me if I was spending some time as a tourist in Budapest and I told her in short about my interests and my disappointment when I discovered that there was hardly any chamber music in the forthcoming week. I told about my plan to visit the evening concert in the opera house with the famous violinist, but the nice woman shook her head and told that he would not appear and that the program had been changed. “Anyway it will be easy to get tickets, because many have been returned, but I think it will be worthwhile going anyway, because we are going to play Shostakovich’s, symphony nr 5, which we have rehearsed many times because it will be recorded next week. I am one of the members of the orchestra and it will be no surprise that I play cello.

“So maybe we will see each other, you can buy tickets from one o’clock at the opera house.” She left with a bye and I stayed there somewhat confused, because I had the idea that I could ask her at
least something more about the week’s program in the concert halls.

But more important, I discovered that I found this  woman with that nice smile and very agreeable voice very attractive. I did not know that I raised the same feelings in Klara as she told me later. For one reason or another she suddenly found me very attractive, but did not know what to say, but intuitively she was sure that I might come to the concert and would invite her. On the map I found the opera house and could buy an excellent ticket at row eight, where I was supposed to have a good view of the orchestra.

I took lunch at one of the most beautiful coffee houses of Budapest and after lunch I walked for a long time in the snow along the Donau. Later I returned to the town center and visited some of the more expensive art galleries and antique shops in the main street. Usually I can look for hours forgetting the whole world around me, but I was surprised about my strong feelings for the young woman. It was not difficult to imagine how a short crewcut, with that attractive dense grey hair, would show off her nice face even more beautifully.

In the late afternoon I found a nice restaurant and I enjoyed again a good dinner, this time with excellent trout. I returned to my room, took a bath and looked for fresh clothes and went on my way to the opera house, where I was guided to my nice place. Even though I dislike all kind of glitter, I felt the charm of the hall and dreamt about all the famous stars that had been here.

Soon the hall started to fill and members of the orchestra entered and suddenly I saw my personal star, totally in black clothes, a long slim figure, her hair put up now. From under her long bangs she looked around and I wondered if she saw me. She stared in my direction and I greeted slightly by waving a little bit with my hand. Smiling she answered my greeting and started to talk with some other members of the orchestra. Soon they were attuning and then the concert started with a short symphony of Haydn, well played and the second symphony of Beethoven. Klara seemed to be first violoncello player and to be honest most of my attention went to the way she played, with an utmost concentration.

In the pause I wandered a little bit around in the hallways, but I did not see any members of the orchestra.

Soon I returned to my place in the hall and when Klara returned I indicated with my thumb that I enjoyed the concert. The waiting was for Shostakovich’s fifth symphony, which I like very much, having it on five CDs by different orchestras. At first I was afraid that my attention for Klara would distract me from this wonderful concert. I can only say that the orchestra played it with an enormous intensity and I could see and hear that the routine of the first two symphonies had been replaced by an intensive…. It was really wonderful and I hardly had any time to think about further contacts with that nice cello player.

During the applause I saw her staring in my direction and I just indicated with my hands that I invited her for a drink. She seemed to understand what I meant and nodded.

After the applause she winked me and I told her that I wanted to go to the famous coffeehouse at the other side of the street. She doubted if there might be place, but we agreed that I would look for a table and otherwise we would look for another place.

Happily a couple just left and I had a table at a reasonably quiet place where it was still possible to hear each other. After some minutes Klara came in, she had changed clothes and looked much more like the young woman that I met that very morning.

“Did you like it?” she asked almost shyly. I smiled and could only say that particularly the Shostakovich was wonderful. I told her that I liked most of his symphonies but that his string quartets were for me a class in itself. “We seem to share a lot of preferences,” she suddenly said. We stared for a moment in each other’s eyes and were silent for a moment.

Then we started to talk exactly at the same time and stopped smiling. I was the first to speak again and said as honest as I could be: “You must realize that I liked to meet you this morning and I feared that I would see you never again. It is a crazy experience if you meet somebody in a foreign town, where you never have been before and then you just speak with that person in a way that seems so natural. Usually I am not the ladykiller type and I cannot remember that I had an experience like this before.” Klara did not speak for, as it seemed, a long time and blushed when she said that her feelings had been confused from the very moment that she just suddenly disappeared from the CD shop, but she had been sure that I might come to the concert. Suddenly we touched each other’s hands and smiled. Later we were talking about all kind of things and I told her about my work and my intention to buy graphic art and mentioned some names of artists. She even knew some of them personally and offered to accompany me. She told me about a concert with chamber music where she would play, and which was not announced in the Budapest Post. She mentioned music of several Hungarian composers and invited to listen to some of their music, which she had recorded with some of her friends. Later it was clear to me that she had been and was the member of several well-known chamber music ensembles, moreover she was very famous as a soloist.

I told her how I could stroll for hours in a town, but that I felt most lucky when I could enjoy all the beautiful things that nature offers us. Suddenly Klara said that it might be nice to take me the day after tomorrow to the town where her parents had lived in the past. “The surroundings are beautiful and I promised to join the local gypsy orchestra during an afternoon concert. When we go there early by train we can spent the whole morning, walking in the snow, enjoying the landscape at the hills near the Donau and in the afternoon you will learn another Klara. Oh heavens!” she said, “We did not introduce ourselves up till now, crazy.”

Klara invited me for the next morning in her house in one of the suburbs of Budapest and I told her where I was staying. When our first glasses of wine were empty I looked around to order two new ones. The waitress that helped us was a nice slim girl with extremely short hair, that had been made blonde. For a moment I looked fascinated and I feared that Klara had noticed my interest.

My fear was real as she asked me if I liked short hair like that. I just confessed that I liked hair like that, with the restriction that a girl should have an extremely nice face and a perfect bone structure of the skull and of course not a fat face. I also think that making dark hair blonde is a risky business as you will see rather soon a dark outgrowth that makes it ugly.

To my surprise she asked how short hair would be for herself. Without thinking very much I just said that it would be perfect and even had the courage to say that even without hair she should be extremely beautiful with such a nice and attractive face. “But more important is how I find you as a person,” I added. “It is really great to meet you.”

We did not speak anymore about her hair, but I knew perfectly well that my remarks had quite an impact and that she would stand long in front of the mirror that night, wondering if she would have the courage. And the next morning the same might happen. The only thing, I did not know at that time was that she visited the coffee house often and had admired the short hair of the girl herself, thinking about 10-15 years ago when she was sporting this type of short hair herself at a time that short hair had been an extreme affair and was very rare in Budapest.

We talked for an hour and then Klara told that she was tired and asked a waitress if she could order a taxi. Soon the taxi came and we permitted ourselves a short kiss and were sure that some nice days would come.

I slept that night not very well, repeatedly dreaming of the wonderful
woman that I met.

The next morning I awoke, but was happy that I could take a long shower, which I usually need. Some sandwiches and a strong coffee helped and soon I felt enough energy for a new day, wondering what my meeting with Klara would bring.

Happily I found a flower shop and spent a small fortune, but I was happy to bring her something nice. With some difficulty and with constant consultation of the map I found the area where Klara lived. It seemed to be a free standing house where she could make all the noise in the world, which seemed to be quite a nice thing when you have to play so much at home for your work or just for fun.

When I stood at her front door I heard her play a sarabande from one of the Bach suites and I waited till it was finished. Then I pushed the doorbell and was welcomed by Klara who gave me an enormous kiss when I offered her the flowers. She showed me the house and I admired some beautiful paintings, sculptures and prints. Her bookcase was well filled and again we discovered a lot of “common writer friends”.

Klara offered me a coffee and even had found time to visit a bakery to buy some delicious cake. From a cupboard she took some old LP records with classical music of some Hungarian composers who were not known to me. One of them she put on the record player. She gave me the covers and I intended to look at the back for farther information, but started to listen to the beautiful played cello music and asked who the player was.

Klara grinned and said, “Well just look at the back of the cover.”

There was a photograph of a beautiful girl, with extremely short hair. Silently I stared at Klara, who was very amused with my confusion and asked if her hair at that time had been as perfect as I imagined. I nodded and with a sigh I told her I liked it very much. Then she told me that my remarks about short hair had caused a lot of memories and that maybe in the summer she wanted to have her hair cut off again like in the past.

I just listened and did not observe that she was just studying my reactions. Later she told me how she noticed that I seemed to enjoy her remark about a possible haircut, but also my slightly visible disappointment when she told that she should do that not earlier than in the summer. She certainly did not tell me that last night she had made a quite different plan.

For a long time we listened to the old record and Klara told me that Hungaroton intended to reissue several of her old solo recordings and other recordings with several string quartets. We talked again much and Klara reminded me that she had some pupils in the afternoon and she invited me to come with her to a chamber music meeting with some of her friends. She would play a.o a suite of Bach, a part of which I heard when I arrived.

Klara took her instrument and played some more parts and looked amused when I reacted with a wow.

I told her of the 10 recordings that I owned of this music and the many live performances that I attended in the past.

She asked, “How many CDs do you have?”

I had to confess that I did not know exactly, but somewhere between the 2500 and 3000 and as I told you, almost all instrumental music and hardly any opera.

I told Klara about my life and that I had lived alone for 10 years, since I had a divorce because my wife preferred an idiot that showed more interest in nice expensive cars and all the glamour that did not interest me at all.

Klara seemed to have lived alone almost as long as I had, since her husband preferred to live abroad in constant pursuit of fame and money. “Moreover I did not want to leave my family at that time, but now with the death of my uncle and aunt it seems to be different.”

“Well in that case I will take you with me to Holland,” I said.

“Maybe not such a bad idea,” she murmured and only later it was clear that her reaction to that remark had a much more serious undertone than I felt at that moment.

To be honest I had the idea that my remark was the wrong one at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it caused no problems. I invited Klara at 5 o’clock for dinner at the restaurant near the place where I had my room and which seemed to be rather near the place where she would play that evening.

Klara had given me some addresses of art galleries that could be of interest and I had seen somewhere the culture house of the republic Polska. The latter seemed to be interesting, because there should be an exhibition of recent graphic art of some artists from Krakow.

The exposition was even better than I expected and the prices were not yet as high as they would have been in Holland. It was possible to buy and take the prints and I arranged that I could order duplicates when I needed more of them in case they were selling well at my own gallery.

To my surprise it was already late in the afternoon when I arrived in the neighborhood of my room where I should meet Klara. I did not even have time to go to my room and went straight to the restaurant where Klara was waiting already. She noticed the roll with prints and was curious as to what I had bought. I had to confess that I had not visited any Hungarian galleries yet, but that I found a lot of excellent Polish work at the culture house. She was excited about most of the prints and wanted to visit the Polish culture house again with me in one of the forthcoming days.

I realized that I would have to extend my visit to Budapest and decided to stay at least one week longer. Klara did not hide her joy when I told her this and asked me if I would accept the offer to stay at her home during the rest of my visit. “Only if you offer me to marry me next summer,” I said.

“Okay,” she said, “that is, if we are still good friends at that time.”

“Heavens, this is going rather fast,” I said.

Klara shrugged her shoulders and said with a smile, “The difference is that we are mature people.”

We were making some jokes about it and then Klara started to tell me about the small town where she wanted to go with me. She lived there during her youth, first with her parents and later after the sudden death of her parents with an aunt and uncle. Later she was there often during the summer holidays and often she played in a local gypsy band that earned some extra money during tourist time. “Now I just join them sometimes for fun and tomorrow in the afternoon I join them because of the 75 birthday of their leader. By the way you can visit the local barber for a crewcut, he still has such an old shop that could be part of a barber museum.”

I had no courage to suggest again a crewcut for Klara and kept my mouth shut, because I did not want to irritate that beautiful woman that I liked so very much.

I suddenly realized that I had some troubles as I could stay only till tomorrow in my room as the house owner had promised the room from that time to another guest. This would give troubles when we had to leave tomorrow early in the morning. Klara grinned when I told her about my problem and supposed that I was trying to stay already earlier at her house.

Blushing I told her that it was not true, but she just smiled and said, “Better that you take your luggage with you to my house. I certainly have a nice place in the cellar or another place where I lock you away during the night, or you just sleep on the sofa. Moreover my menstruation reduces my attractiveness and more important I trust you and most important I seem to like you. Moreover you promised to marry me.”

And then she started to blush and confessed that she never had invited a man in that way before. She looked at her watch and suddenly we had to hurry and I even had no time to change my clothes.

We arrived at an old school where the concert would be and Klara introduced me to some of her friends and colleagues as her new friend. I only wondered about the speed with which our relationship developed. The music was beautiful; after the solo by Klara they played some string quartets of Hungarian com
posers and the musicians obviously enjoyed the music making themselves.

After the concert we went to my room and I looked for the owner to tell her that I would leave that evening. To my surprise she seemed to know Klara and I later learnt that Klara let her house sometimes during the summer with her help. Klara went to the toilet and the house owner told me that I was lucky to meet Klara. “You know she is a wonderful girl, but please be careful that you don’t hurt her feelings. I really hope that you will be a nice partner for her.”

I thought about the fact that I met Klara only the day before and wondered again what the future would bring. We ordered a taxi and with my luggage and her cello case we went to Klara’s house. I told Klara about the remarks of the house owner and my own confusion. We were silent for a long time and then we just kissed and wished each other that nice things would follow.

We were tired after that long day and soon we took a bath and Klara invited me to sleep with her; no dangerous things can happen and soon we lay down together. It was nice to be together, discovering that we liked each other’s bodies and again we wondered how normal it seemed and how easily we fell asleep very close together.

The next morning early we kissed a lot, but according to our plan we had to take an early train. It was snowing again when we left the house, but when the train left Budapest, the very early sun came through and for half an hour we enjoyed the wonderful white landscape.

We arrived at a small old station and walked to the nearby town. Klara had brought a violin case and a small suitcase with some clothes and other shoes for the performance.

The old town was beautiful, covered by a heavy layer of snow and suddenly I saw an old-fashioned barbershop, where Klara entered to my surprise. She greeted the barber, introduced me and just dropped her luggage. She spoke somewhat in the Hungarian language and the barber started to grin and Klara told me that she had asked him to cut my hair later in the afternoon. “But first a coffee and then we are going to walk. By the way the barber is one of the members of the band.”

Soon we were walking and came outside the town and started to walk upwards. It was really beautiful and the view over the valley of the Donau was wonderful. We walked for some hours through a forest and were just happy. Afterwards we came back into town and visited the restaurant where Klara would play that afternoon. We were served a nice lunch, talked a lot about our life and then suddenly Klara looked at her watch and said: “Oh, we have to hurry. The barber promised to cut your hair at two o’clock and we have to be here half an hour later for the rehearsal of the birthdays program.”

Disappointed, I realized that there would be no time for a haircut for Klara, even when I suggested it. But maybe later in Budapest, but I remembered too well that Klara said that she might do something like that not earlier than in the summer. “Better not to hurt her feelings,” I thought, when we entered the barbershop, where the old barber just finished the haircut of a boy. It was a well done crewcut and I suggested Klara that my hair could be cut in that way. Klara went to the suitcase and seemed to take an old photograph, but I could not see what was depicted.

We waited till the boy had paid and I expected that I might be invited to the old almost antique chair, but Klara showed the photograph and started an animated discussion.

The barber seemed to say something to me and I just wanted to take my seat, when Klara walked to the chair and told me: “The barber asks if you agree that I want my hair cut as short as that boy that you just saw – something like this,” and she showed the photograph to me. The whole thing took me by surprise and I only stammered: “Of course.”

Klara explained that she had asked to cut her hair very short with scissors as she planned to make a wig with the cut-off hair.

It is no exaggeration that the whole thing gave a strong sexual stimulation and it did not surprise me that I felt something growing in my trousers, but I would be very unhappy if Klara and the barber should observe that. There I was sitting with my strong hair fetish and a woman did the thing that I liked so very much, voluntarily, without any real pressure from my side. For some seconds I had the feeling that I was dreaming, but it was real when I saw that the barber wrapped a cape around that beautiful neck and opened the ponytail.

From a cupboard the barber took scissors and once more seemed to ask me if I agreed with the whole thing.

Then he took the first strand of maybe 60-70 centimetre long hair and cut it quite near Klara’s head leaving maybe one and a half centimetres. He put it on a chair and soon the following snips followed.

At first it seemed to make hardly impact on that dense mass of hair. But gradually one side of the head was only covered by a short mass of spikes. The rest followed and I saw Klara shiver for a moment.

“Afraid?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said smiling, “but you are not the only one who likes it when hair is cut short as this.” Soon all the hair was very short, except for the bangs that seemed to be ridiculously long now. Klara asked to remove a part of the bang already.

With two snips the bangs were reduced to almost nothing and that whole nice forehead of Klara was almost totally exposed. The effect of the whole haircut that only started just some minutes ago was really dramatic. Within some minutes she looked almost 10 years younger and later Klara told me that she had been shocked herself by this enormous change.

Then the barber took the clippers and Klara told me that one of the things she liked most of all with such a short haircut, was to feel how the barber almost shaved her head with the clippers at the sides and back of her head.

It was great to see how the beautiful form of Klara’s head became more and more clear, when the clippers reduced the hair to a very dense stubble. It looked very nice, particularly because Klara’s hair seemed to be so very dense that her skin was hardly visible.

The barber seemed to use a number 2 comb at the sides, but later made the lowest parts even shorter using the clippers without attachment over a very thin comb.

Then the barber started with the hair on top and it was great to see how that beautiful grey hair formed a very short brush as soon as the clippers found their way. Only the front part with bangs was left somewhat longer for the time being. First with clippers, but then with his scissors the barber started to blend the slightly longer hair on top with the shorter hair at the sides. This barber really knew how to cut the perfect crewcut. The barber stopped for a moment and admired his own work and the nice youthful face of Klara. Then the barber started to work at the bangs, reducing them to almost nothing, but making them featherlike wispy. With a razor the remaining hairs at the beautiful nape of Klara were removed.

Klara admired her own nice head and asked if I was angry that she had not waited till the summer for this nice haircut. I told her smiling that I did not feel responsible if she might catch a cold with that crazy haircut, but of course that girl knew how to seduce me.

Then, but it was obvious enough, Klara declared that she had been lying and that there was still time for my haircut, which, as she ordered had to be exactly the same as hers. Then Klara said that she had a better sense of responsibility for any cold that I should catch and would be happy to be my nurse.

To be honest I had not much attention for my own haircut, but stared most of the time at that crazy attractive boyish girl. I realized that I was thinking about a girl, now that she seemed so much younger. At the same time she was a mature woman and I loved the beautiful greyish hair. I really had to tell her that I might not like it if she had any plans to change the colour. She told me that she had b
een thinking about a change, but happily she agreed that it was wonderful at this moment. We tried to pay the barber, but he told us that he was more than happy that the famous Klara would join them later that afternoon. Klara let him promise however that she might pay in case she wanted to come back for following haircuts, because as she declared, the disadvantage of short hair like this, is that it must be cut almost every 2-3 weeks.

But it will be cheaper to go here than in the modern hairdressing salons in Budapest

After our visit to the barber we returned to the restaurant, where Klara was greeted by a lot of people, most of whom honestly said that they admired her renewed crewcut after as it seemed almost 15 years.

I saw Klara this time as another musician, improvising and playing with an enormous amount of energy. To my surprise she was even performing a lot of songs, which was again surprising, even though I realized that she had a nice voice.

We returned with the last train to Budapest and I shared for the second time Klara’s bed. Soon we were again almost naked and we regretted that Klara’s menstruation was not yet finished, but there are other ways to enjoy the human body and we had quite a nice time.

For the first time I felt that wonderful shaped head and caressed the short bristle-like hair.

The next morning Klara had to be at ten o’clock for the rehearsals of concerts, in which she seemed to be soloist in the second cello concerto of, again, Shostakovich. That meant that during the daytime I would see her not very much, but the evenings and late afternoons she would be free, as long as she was not studying the solo parts.

I thought that it might be nice, because we would learn more about each other’s normal life and I even promised to prepare a meal at home.

We went together to town on the bus and it was clear that Klara was drawing a lot of attention with her new haircut. “I wonder how many comments I will get from my colleagues,” Klara said. “Maybe you will see a picture of my new haircut in the newspaper within some days.”

Near the Liszt Academy, where Klara had to play, we kissed each other and I started to look for some art galleries, but was not yet satisfied with the work that I found. Only at one gallery I found excellent work by a new young artist, but the owner of the gallery spoke hardly any English, French or German and I thought that Klara could help me.

Later I visited the famous beautiful market building and bought the things that I needed for our evening meal. At four I went to the coffeehouse where I should meet Klara again. To my surprise she was not alone, but accompanied by a man with a camera, who seemed to be working for one of the newspapers. “Well, my haircut seems to be sensational,” said Klara. “Most people like it and a lot of them try to caress my hairs. One or another idiot seemed to have connections with the press and they phoned me , to ask if I had any objection that they should make some pictures. I thought about you and said no, but then they offered me a ridiculously high amount of money for a photo session because they want those pictures in the section about fashion that will appear on Saturday. I think that I will be crazy if I refuse that offer, what do you think?”

I grinned and declared: “As your long-term manager I agree, but if it means that all kind of nice man threaten my position as your future husband, I will be angry, but most of all very sad. The only thing is that it will take some time and that we had better take some food here in town,” I reflected. “Where do I leave this food?”

Klara, who seemed to be well known in the coffee house, took my things to the kitchen and came back with the shorthaired waitress, who would join the session even though she would not be paid.

We went to the nearby office of the photographer and met the journalist who seemed to be responsible for the article on the new hair fashion. First we discussed about the conditions, particularly in case the pictures should be sold to third parties and then Klara signed a contract. Within some minutes the photographer started to make an enormous amount of photographs, many of which in close up. In between a hairdresser arrived to cut the hair of the waitress as short as Klara’s and another girl that arrived with medium length hair sported after some time also a crewcut. “That is how fashion is made,” said the journalist. He promised to send copies of pictures to Klara’s house.

Klara received a fat cheque and invited me late that evening for dinner.

The next day I visited a museum for modern art, but returned early in the afternoon, cleaned up the house and prepared a meal for Klara, who brought a whole pile of photographs. Most of them were extremely beautiful and to my surprise there were also some pictures of me alone and even together with Klara.

To be honest Klara was rather nervous when she left the house early this (Saturday) morning and went to the local mall for some shopping, but particularly to buy the newspaper. Soon she returned, showing the front page of the paper, where a big, to be honest , beautiful, picture referred to the fashion part. There one page was partly covered by some other nice pictures and a number of smaller ones of other shorthaired girls, a.o. our waitress.

The article opened with a sensational new haircut of the famous cellist….

I only grinned and asked where the rests of the long hair were. “I fear that you need a nice grey wig to disguise you, if you want to have some privacy.”

Klara translated the article, which ended with the question if the famous musician might have the courage in future to go for a headshave?

“In that case they have to pay me 100 times more money, if they like to have the photographs, but by the way I have the feeling that I still might be beautiful and if I see you looking, without saying anything, I fear that you might like it. Maybe in the summer, it seems to be too cold now, the risk to catch a cold….”

It is summer and Klara came for holidays to Holland. It is the third time since I met her this winter and we really intend to marry, even though it will be difficult to live both in Budapest and Holland.

I rented a small house at one of the nice islands in the northern part of my country, the weather is beautiful and it seemed that Klara brought clippers. She wrote me that one time during her holidays she wanted to see how a headshave with clippers would look. She finds a shave with a razor too bald. The clippers are the old-fashioned ones that you can use everywhere.

This afternoon we will go to the lonesome beach and we will clipper our hair till the sun is burning on our bald skulls. No photographer this time.

Klara changed her mind however about the place where our haircut session should be. She told that she wanted to see in a mirror what happens and likes the humming sound of the electric clippers. Moreover the sand should, as I feared, destroy the clippers. I confessed that I foresaw the problems and brought my own clippers, which I normally use at home. In one of the rooms in the house is a big mirror, where Klara can follow what I am doing. Klara exactly knows what she wants: The clippers without any attachment.

Klara says:”my hair grows very fast and moreover they made two wigs for me using the long hair that I lost earlier this year. One is with a cute spiky haircut and the other one is a short bob, that looks also rather good. So if I dislike the bald head I cover my hair with one of the wigs.”

I warn her that the white skin of her head will be visible, but she clearly knows what she wants to try: at least one time in her life a very bald head.

I switch on the clippers and place the clippers right away on top of her head, starting at the bangs, I push the clippers backwards and a white path becomes visible. “No way back,” is my comment. Klara, seeing the crazy pattern in her ha
ir, starts to giggle and takes the clippers herself and makes some more movements backwards and grins at the balding monk in the mirror. I take over again and slowly, but carefully remove all the hair of my dear Klara.

I kiss her head and feel the millions of black points with my tongue. Klara touches her head herself and feels how extremely rough the skin feels. I knew beforehand that her curiosity will not stop till the last hair has been removed after an intense headshave with the razor. Soon her head is totally bald and she will have to be careful in the sun, but within some days she will have one of the most beautiful bald heads, but then her hair will grow again and I will adore my dear Klara with the nice crewcut. While I dream about this, Klara is shaving my head and soon we will go the beach where we will enjoy the nice feeling of the warm wind on our nice, but very bald, heads