The long-bearded Russian

His feeling of sickness increased when he stood in front of the mirror. He did not know when he put his head on the pillow last night that tomorrow would bring a decisive decision. The old man, Dublin, in his sixties, lived alone by himself, in a large two-story house containing five rooms with a large kitchen. He knew that he was in One day he will not be able to climb the stairs, and therefore he will sell his family's house, which contains works of art imitating Da Vinci, Michelangelo, from Mona Lisa, the Last Supper and the Day of Judgment, and the latter is the most beloved one to him. These paintings were placed in order on the wall of the entrance hall, which It contained antique Persian red carpets that he had bought on his travels.

The blue-eyed Dublin looked at himself in the mirror, he saw his soft brown hair carrying waves of gray, neatly combed, and his long gray beard, which was three meters long. The others were troubled by a clear vision of his smile, which seldom appeared on his resolute face. “Today I shall shave you, you itchy mass of hair.” Dublin looked at his beard and remembered that two days ago, when he woke up, he found himself almost tied by his beard from the effect of his increasing movement in the night, so he called out to his servant in a panicked voice to help him. He had to get up, and it wasn't a very pleasant morning then, as he had to take a bath with the three-meter gray hair rope.

Dublin regained consciousness from his painful memories, his blue eyes shone, and a hidden evil smile appeared on his mouth as they hurriedly opened the bathroom cabinet and took his large scissors, which bore some rust from lack of use. “This will do the trick.” By cutting it, and the enthusiasm possessed him until he knocked on the door, his enthusiasm subsided suddenly and the furious anger flared up, he continued knocking on the door, he put the scissors on the sink and muttered angrily, “One cannot shave his beard in peace.” Who is the trigger?”

Three men stood behind the door wearing elegant black suits and hats. The tallest of them carried a notebook and a pen, and the others were holding photographic equipment for an old photographic camera. Doblin's gaze fell on the large externally mounted camera flash. The tall man holding the notebook spoke for fear that Doblin would close the door, "Congratulations Mr. Doblin" He showed a broad smile on his face, "I am Martin from the Russian Al-Hadath newspaper. We want to take a souvenir photo for you to enter the Guinx Book for the longest human beard in the nineteenth century." Idiot on his face, “Of course, go ahead.” He took them inside, and the last man closed the door behind him. The press men looked at the art paintings in the corridor, astonished. Dublin said: “They are imitation paintings.” The men looked at him mockingly. He continued, “My servant is on his weekend, so sorry for the mess.” The men in smart suits looked around, and none of them saw any sign of chaos, but none of them cared.

Dublin climbed the stairs upstairs, thinking that the long mass of gray hair sends her thanks and gratitude to the three guests in suits for their excellent timing. Dublin watched their surprised looks on his beard, not knowing that if they were a little late, the “Believe it or Not” paragraph would have been left blank tonight in the Russian newspaper Al-Hadath. The Guinness-recorded gray beard in the garbage smells of filth.

Dublin went to an empty room and asked them to wait a bit for him to prepare himself. He went and put on his elegant suit and combed his hair. He looked at the mirror and then headed back to the empty room. In the middle of the room was a wooden chair with an old design made of cheap wood and exaggerated decoration. Doblin just as it hurts to sit on it and rages in this kind of chair, Martin had instructed his companions, and he longed to light a cigarette but waited till they came out of this ghost-house and was afraid of Mr. Doblin's reprimand.

Doblin was about to sit down, they had equipped the camera and put it on its armrest and adjusted its distance to fit the level of the chair and its distance from it, they installed the large external flash that looks like a laser cannon for UFOs. Tension and fear were appearing on Doblin’s face from the flash of the camera, thinking that whoever sheds this flash on him is possessed by evil spirits, but he was stubborn so that no one would know about his false belief. Doblin replied firmly, “It is not the first time that I took a picture.” He tried to smile, but she did not. It appears from among this poetry, he began to recite his prayers silently... Dublin had a firm look that appeared on him when he tensed, he gripped the ends of the chair with his hands to hide his tension from this suspicious flash, and at the moment this white flash was released... He woke up.. Dublin from his sleep terrified by the flash, sniffing and breathing He quickly repeated, “It was a dream.. it was a dream… the evil spirits do not go away.” He needed a deep breath to regain his balance and get up from his bed. His beard was wrapped around his neck like a snake wanting to strangle him. He hurried to hear a knock on the door alerting his mind, “It is the door.” His appointment with the Russian Al-Hadath newspaper this morning, he put on his slippers that were next to the bed and ran quickly towards the door, his wrapped beard shook, realized who was in the door, saying: “I must get ready for photography” and grabbed the handle to open it while smiling, welcoming the journalists.