By Peter Cherches
I singed my hair for a lark. I wanted to see how it sounded, how it smelled, and it sounded like a lark, like a songbird. Hair singeing, singing, it must have been a mating call because a lark landed on my head and started singing, and it was a beautiful duet, my hair singeing and the lark singing, a beautiful song, and it kept going through my head long after it was over, so beautiful that I didn't care that I was now completely bald and burnt to a crisp.
Peter Cherches blogs about food, travel, dreams and writing at http://petercherches.blogspot.com