The Beard

I grew a beard and became aware of people's inclination to see what they wish to see.  Some looked and pretended it was not there.  It was not growing out of my face, because they did not want it to.  Others seeing it decided if nothing were said it would go away - it would maybe grow inward, disappeared into whence it came.  Others still pointed and laughed, and they were the most real.  They saw and had a name for what they saw.  Scraggly as it seemed, there it was in all its blackness, redness, brownness, and flecks of white.  A reality.  Nor is it only hair we wish to deny.