Morning
Just a drabble, not enough for a story, which came to me this morning...
............................
She's got to clear out this closet, she thinks, as her hands pass slowly over the shirts and skirts and trousers and jackets. It's too full for the clothes to breathe...
“How can I see what I have?” she mutters.
Then a sleeve eases itself out. Tweed-and-leather-patch, a ragged hole at the cuff. Not hers.
He's been gone a long time.
The closet now smells of bay rum and warm man instead of her flowers.
The sleeve rests itself on her shoulder. She feels the hole against her skin.
“Darling, what do you have?” comes the whisper.
............................
............................
She's got to clear out this closet, she thinks, as her hands pass slowly over the shirts and skirts and trousers and jackets. It's too full for the clothes to breathe...
“How can I see what I have?” she mutters.
Then a sleeve eases itself out. Tweed-and-leather-patch, a ragged hole at the cuff. Not hers.
He's been gone a long time.
The closet now smells of bay rum and warm man instead of her flowers.
The sleeve rests itself on her shoulder. She feels the hole against her skin.
“Darling, what do you have?” comes the whisper.
............................