I like tweaking with the point of view in stories. This very short piece focuses on the love and abuse we all seem to have for our jeans.
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After walking up and down streets, checking shops, malls, and then ending the day with a couple of drinks with the guys, I end up here – crumpled in a lump on the floor from one day’s wear.
As the rising sun creeps across the floor to shine on my leg, I almost look enlivened. And, as you finally pick me up, shake me out, and determine whether I’m good for one more use… I see you smile.
Slipping me on one more time before you throw me in the machine for a thorough washing, I hug your curves again, shaping the contours of your knees, thighs, and rear. Showing off your best assets for another day of wear and tear.
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