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Feb 29, 2020
The day had swiftly gone by, and the scribe was rounding off on his farm. Earlier that day, he had given a little time to reflect on the incident that accounted for his beardless chin. He had tried several beard products, but his attempt to regrow his masculine pride was still to no avail. He would have been in luck if the Fable Beard Co product still remained a few in his possession. He had sold it all before his facial pride was ridiculed, in assurance that he was going to get more of it, since he was an ambassador. But as it turned out, life did hit him hard, as news got around really fast that the scribe’s beard was now history. As soon as this information filtered into the ears of the company, they had withdrawn all privileges, and he was in fact too ashamed to recount the details of his fate to the Fable company itself, or as well to the public.
He had a hurting impression that he had been flawed, and he was nothing more than a laughing stock. He heaved a deep sigh, and now, he was going to serve his ewe lamb's water one last time, before he set to leave. He approached the cabin to fetch the Jerry Can that had some water in it. The bleats from his lambs filled the air as he walked into the cabin. They had it registered in their instincts that he mostly came out of the cabin productive to them. And there was a container that hosted their favorite in sultry weather. As he emptied the contents of the Jerry can into a barrel, he watched as the lambs struggled to get a fair share of hydration. The Scribe stared for long, looking at the beards that dangled on the chin of his lambs, and envied on how they had been blessed with something they had no use for.
"I'm gonna have to get my beards back...I have to." Scribe said with his hand caressing his chin, as some overlapping thoughts filled his imagination, complemented with the smell that his farm emitted.
He was now ready to call it a day. He concluded his activity for the day, and left. His house was only a few distance from his farm. On his way home, he worked his mind on the possibilities of restoring his beards. He didn't pay much attention to people who stared at him, as he was getting tired of the gossip that was already immersed in the public. While his thoughts opened every door to check for a pathway of a solution, finally it seemed like he found one. He was going to pay a visit to a friend, The Harvester. The Harvester resided on the edge of the town, and had somewhat the same look as The Scribe, but appeared a little older. He regaled his mind on how The Harvester had always praised him when his chin was richly graced with healthy hair, courtesy of The Fable Beard Co product.
The next morning, The Scribe wasted no time. He was on his way to engage The Harvester in some conversation downtown. Arriving at his house, The Harvester was seen making dexterous efforts, cultivating some grains. Most times, he was always busy cultivating in his yard so that in the end, he could bountifully harvest and make a good sale off it. The trickling of sweat consequently ran down his face as he worked.
"We are looking at a good heavy harvest." The Scribe said as he walked in.
"Oh, good gracious...Scribe, how nice of you to pay a visit." The Harvester said, getting to his feet, and giving him a firm handshake.
"Oh yes...only that I came for something very important. I am tired of this humiliation. I want my beards back, friend." The Scribe said.
Just then, The Scribe observed for a few seconds the hairs that were already assembling on The Harvester's chin.
"Hmm....Impressive." The Scribe said.
"Ohh this..." The Harvester replied running his hand through his chin. "I got the boost with Fable Beard Oil, it is truly the one, friend."
The Scribe felt sparks of excitement on his chest, as his skin grew goosebumps. At least, The Harvester was in possession of The Fable Beard Oil, and The Scribe was so eager to have some of it.
"Can I have some of your oil friends?" The Scribe asked while The Harvester was down on his knees again, engaging his hands in the soil dirt for the cultivation process.
"Oh well, I had used the last of it last night before I went to bed. I intend on getting more of it soon." The Harvester replied, wiping a bead of sweat off his face.
"I see..." The Scribe said.
"Frankly, I will say for a fact that the other beard products I used this past few months had been a waste of time. It was wise for me to have purchased a bottle of the Fable Beard Oil from you. It is a product far from falsehood." The Harvester said, still sweating while he worked hard.
"Yes, I should know that... It was the very product that facilitated my beard growth. It became so shiny, and attractive before I...Oh well, you know the story." The Scribe said, not wanting to dig into his past any further.
The Harvester got on his feet, his jeans had suffered soil dirt from his endeavors to position some grains beneath the earth.
"I tell you what..." The Harvester said wiping off more sweat this time, and tapping The Scribe on his shoulder. "You can have your beards back friend."
The Scribe became more attentive, was this a joke? "How?" He curiously asked.
"An odorless solution was applied by my assailants after shaving off my beards." He said.
"What if I told you I knew a man...A Wizard that lives a few cities from here. He is a retailer of Fable Beard Oil Products, and he just might be the one with a solution.
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