A frock or two

I’m lying on the bed, wrapped in a towel, staring at my closet.

But instead of choosing something to wear, or agonising over what to wear, I’m thinking how a few days ago a certain man said:

’Violet, you have more dresses than anyone else I know.’

‘Hah, not true at all,’ I declared.

But secretly I was vaguely amused and delighted.

For no other reason than he notices.

Indeed, the emotionless stone cold sober no nonsense man with a heart made of steel notices what I wear.



That’s all.

Now I’m going to have a cocktail.

Even though I have nothing to wear.


8 thoughts on “A frock or two

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