this is a silly detail.  I have been so looking forward to a haircut today that I went there yesterday.  And the hairdresser was standing at the entrance of his temporary salon, looking sad.  “Come back tomorrow,” he said, with a hairdresser’s kiss. 

But just as I was about to dance out of the door, Ezi reminded me that there was a missile yesterday at this time and I’d better stay home. 

I remembered suddenly that my mother once told me that my father was coming down the street on Fountayne Road in London and she was walking up the road, and a rocket fell between them, leaving a big hole in the street.  I looked it up and it was recorded.  

so i cancelled.  curses.

I would have much more strength to face this war with short hair.