FORBIX — THE HAIRDRESSER WITH AN ARTIST’S TOUCH
In the heart of the town of Tagliaspunta, nestled among shops of all kinds, there’s a hairdresser named Forbix, for women, men, teenagers, and children — though not too little. Forbix is no ordinary hairdresser: he has the magical touch of an artist. His scissors are made of silver and, as they cut, they whisper stories. His ivory comb makes hair shine, and his hairdryer doesn’t blow air — it blows dreams.
At his cutting station, he becomes a magician: the scissors, guided by his hand, flutter through the hair and, touch after touch — voilà! — the result is perfect.
One day, the tree standing in front of his shop said to Forbix:
“You are an artist, and I’m tired of my tangled mop of leaves. I’d love a little makeover,” it sighed, “and I’d make a great advertisement for you.”
The hairdresser didn’t need to be asked twice: he stepped outside with his enchanted scissors.
Circling the tree with the flair of a genius, after a few confident snips, he trimmed the branches and turned the dry leaves into silver confetti that the wind carried away. The tree looked more radiant and alive than it had ever been, with fresh green leaves adorning it like braided ringlets.
The next morning, two children — Sara and David — playful as ever, were hopping along the sidewalk when they saw the tree, so elegant and in a good mood, its leaves joyfully whistling.
Sara had curls like little summer clouds, and David’s hair stuck up like a tiny hedgehog.
As they came closer, they asked in unison:
“Who’s the artist who did all this?”
The tree replied: “The hairdresser, Forbix.”
“We’d love to go too! Our hair is all messy and really needs a good fix. Our moms have been saying so for quite a while now.”
“Well then, you’d better listen to them. Go on, go in,” the tree encouraged them with a whisper.
David went in first, tripping over the marble step, followed by Sara who smiled and waved.
Forbix, ever observant, welcomed them in and, running his hands through their hair one at a time, slowly began to cut with his magical scissors. The comb gently caressed their hair, which began to shine, and with the blow-dryer, dreams swirled through the air along with whispered stories.
Looking at themselves in the mirror, their faces lit up with big smiles, while Forbix, pleased in turn, gave them a wink.
Sara and David happily thanked him with a bow and a wave.
Out on the sidewalk, they danced in a joyful circle around the tree, on whose branches little songbirds had perched — giving a cheerful concert, along with the leaves and the children.
The true magic of Forbix lies not only in the tools of his trade, which he uses with an artist’s passion, but also in his ability to listen — and bring a smile.
-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli
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