January 11, 2013

No. 282

“Where’s my party shirt?” asked Scott.
“You mean that ratty blue one you always try to wear?” said his girlfriend, Hilary.
“It’s not ratty. It’s fine,” said Scott, taking a stand in a battle he couldn’t win.
“I don’t know,” said Hilary. “Last time I saw it was after that thing at the Fleury’s house.”
“You know I can’t party without it,” said Scott. He was rooting through his closet frantically, and was beginning to suspect that Hilary had followed through on her repeated threats to burn the shirt in question.
“Why don’t you wear that nice green shirt you got for your birthday?” suggested Hilary, trying to distract Scott from discovering that she had, in fact, thrown out his shirt.
“It’s not comfortable,” said Scott. “And it’s not fun.”
Hilary put her foot down. “Wear the green shirt.”
Scott gave her the stink-eye, but did as he was told. He knew, in that moment, what she had done.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Did you lose a favourite garment to the trash bin?

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