If you lost your mannequin's head, its on the side of the highway, approximately one-hundred and ten miles north of Mexico, in the vicinity of one of the rainbow houses, but not too far from the jail.
This is no ordinary mannequin head. He comes with a full head of hair and a very hip beard. And I don't mean he's got paint to approximate hair. I mean he has actual hair and an actual beard, in that vivacious brown color that could imply he's from anywhere in the world.
His eyes are light, but what color light I couldn't tell, while speeding by at sixty-five (okay, seventy-two) miles per hour.
But I could tell he was looking for you, or maybe just the rest of his body. He seemed so out of place, just bright and shiny on the dusty blacktop.
The only reason I know these details is because for a split second I thought, Oh, please don't let that be an actual head, or I'm really going to be late for work.
And it wasn't. The plastic was so obvious, once I got past the actual hair.
So if he's yours, he's waiting for you.