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No Stubble, No Trouble

The sink faucet ran.

Max had his hands on the sink, leaning forward and looking in the mirror. He turned his head sideways, his eyes maintaining contact with the mirror, and stared at his chin.  His left hand stroked his cheek and it was smooth like a baby's bottom.

"Hmmm," escaped his lips.

He had been going for three days straight with no sign of a five o'clock shadow on his face. And this was perplexing.