Drabble - Blue Denim

[lferion]

Methos hung the last pair of jeans on the clothesline. The fabric was stiff and damp in his hands, the plastic clothespins slick. The little wire springs squeaked as he opened them and let them close on the line, pinning the layers of fabric to be tickled by the breeze. He smelled the ghost of the soap and the sharp greenness of the grass under his bare feet. Serge d'Nimes, the cloth was, fabric of Nimes, woven by skilled hands on elaborate, hand-crafted looms, once upon a time; now made everywhere, by machine.

The language changed. The dye did not.

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Inspired by this image, posted in the mini_nanowrimo post for today.