There lay a single band there; red in colour, and glistening abnormally on the wooden panel. He predicted it was for the hair, but observing its incredible length, he couldn't imagine anyone with such hair that was able to support such a piece of string! This string added to his collection, he walked along the corridor, all the while expecting some abrupt interruption by a masked intruder.
His heart was much too frail to sustain the shock, and he had never been much of a sport at hide-and-seek.
He had, in his mind, contrived the image of some long haired gangster, with equally atrocious whiskers, for which he bounded with the string, in order to make more convenient his sprees. That was ridiculous, he confronted himself silently. What else could it be then? A vengeful spirit, who had by chance, unluckily lost her hair tie during her promenade session in the morning? What then, sort of spirit did its haunting in the peak of day? It was better to brush this all aside, and search for the source without preconceived notions that did more harm than contribute to common sense. But if it were a living, breathing, being, could it stand a blow from a thinly constructed mirror, he had to wonder? Or must he prepare a blunter object? 'Nah', was the last syllable uttered from the bottom of his conscience, and he followed to the end of the hallway with neither paranormal entity nor thieving rascal in sight.
Disheartened at such an intense chase gone pale, but glad that his thumping organ was spared the excitement, he turned away and was beginning to sweat about the amount of cleaning up he would have to do in the living room, and where and how he would dispose of the broken bottles.
But there it was again, and this time, it was closer to him, as if it had brushed him by innocently when he was bent over and picking the lint from his garments.
When he had raised his head again, he fancied he caught the sight of a few strands of hair turning by the corner at the other end, and leading to the living room. Rather than being wholly taken by fear, he stretched a long sigh, and, supposing that the spirit would wait for him there obediently, imagined calling out for it to hold onto its horses, and to give him a slight recess, because he was really unprepared for any surprises, and having held his breath for so long already, he could barely catch it again; though, he begged its pardon, it was all the suspense of the chase that had rendered him tired, and not his inability to walk from one end of his house to the other.
However, as strongly as he tried to calm his roused nerves, there was an exceptional tenderness about the situation itself, and an overall feeling of familiarity. He must admit to himself, that perhaps he attested his giddiness to his overreaction when the presence passed him by, and that the warmth and vague sentimental sensation that washed over him was manufactured by his agitated brain.