The Demise of the Silver Fox

By: Josh Embry

Mr. Harold Coffer was an older gentleman. A respectable gentleman however, with slick pants that accentuated his spider-like long legs but not so much so that that it was perverse. He wore shiny black shoes that housed a large, gold buckle in the middle of the tongue. He preferred not to wear a jacket to accompany his pale blue buttoned shirt so as to not cause street accidents with drivers losing their focus, for if he did wear one of the many attractive jackets he owned, it would certainly have done what he so feared.

While it is undoubtedly obvious that Mr. Coffer was a fashionable man, neither his fashion nor his allure matched the beautiful and luscious hair that sat upon his scalp. The hair, slicked back, oiled, and sprayed with light hints of cologne, shined upon the world with its silver-fox color, for when the sun hit it, the great ball of fire itself paid homage to the collection of hairs atop Mr. Coffer’s scalp.

Mr. Coffer was a man of extreme shallowness, as he never looked upon the bloated figure of a person who was above their doctor-recommended weight. On the morning of July 14th, Mr. Coffer took his usual stroll past the Saint Margaret Catholic School for Girls with the nod of his head and a smirk. Each class at at the Saint Margaret Catholic School for Girls halted its studies from 9:34 AM to 9:36 AM and raced towards the windows to perchance catch a glimpse of the Silver Fox.