He was still asleep and wouldn’t feel anything so she got her tweezers and pulled it and it came out. That irritating little hair smack bang in the centre of his face, right between his eyebrows. The one that made him look slightly ogreish. Now he was back to his most handsome. Pulling the hair had woken him but he remained horizontal and she looked down at him and smiled and said good morning and though he was slightly pained and confused he smiled and said good morning back.
It was only when he turned his head to the side to plant a kiss on her cheek that it happened and her smile faded and she began to scream. It was like some kind of camera trick or special effect or circus act or something but certainly not a normal morning thing, no matter how hard the sun was shining. She watched in horror as his face began to slip slowly from the front of his head.
He had brought his hand to his sliding face and caught it before it dropped completely off the front of his head and for a moment it hung from the end of his chin like a piece of wandering food. He dragged it back into place and held it there like a mask. They both wondered if they were dreaming.
She made herself a cup of tea to keep calm and told him to keep a bag of frozen peas pressed to his face. For some reason she thought it might help. He turned down the offer of a cup of tea as he was having some difficulty in keeping his lips lined up with his mouth. It was not painful but clearly something had come unstuck and it would be a good idea to stick it back as soon as possible.
The NHS Direct website was her first port of call. With trembling fingers she typed ‘face slippage’ into the search box and was pleased and somewhat relieved when it came up with a result. At least this was something that the NHS knew about. She was also pleased to read that putting ice (or at least frozen vegetables) on the face was the correct thing to do. The page went on to advise that anyone suffering from ‘face slippage’ should be rushed to hospital immediately where it should be quite quick and painless to reattach the wandering face. However, they must make sure to bring their facestring with them.
She stared at that word, her own face frozen in horror – facestring. A word which she had never seen before but knew she was never going to forget again. Facestring. Facestring. Facestring. Without his facestring his lovely face would never sit on the front of his head ever again.
He asked her what a facestring was and she did not reply. Peering over the bag of frozen peas, his eyeballs lined up to the correct gaps in his face, he watched as she fell to the floor and began desperately scrambling around for something. Whilst she searched an endless, futile search he thought about beards.