The clippings pinged off the condensation on the windscreen and he turned the warm air on to clear it. Another freezing morning. Night-time vigils were fine but the street was about to get busy and he’d have to move the car every half hour so nobody would alert the police.
The car had nearly ended up as a write-off but that had been Sharpe’s stupid fault. He ran his hand over his head again and felt the sharp prickles of his recent haircut. At least there was no shortage of nearby shops to keep him feeling human. He flipped the sun visor down so he could study the grey hairs amongst the black. He wondered if he should try a spray dye. Perhaps he’d wait for his bald patch to spread a little more first. It wouldn’t be long and the thought made his stomach shrink. His wife had told him she didn’t mind but he was only in his mid thirties. He kept his abs trim but what the fuck was the point if his follicles were heading towards premature middle age?
His phone rang and he switched his earpiece on.
