“My clothes are fine.” I flipped to the new page in my Sports Illustrated.
“Your clothes are not fine. I can darn near see through the seat of your jeans and let me tell you, it is not a pretty sight from any angle.”
I reached around and felt my, well, my butt. “Okay, things might be thinning a bit back there, but that doesn’t mean a complete overhaul of my closet.”
“Okay, then, let’s start with pants.”
“My cargo shorts have served me well.”
“What part of ‘pants’ don’t you understand?” She rifled through everything that had stayed on a hanger. “We’re talking a piece of clothing that actually covers your entire leg.”
“I’m sure I have some in there.”
She pulled out a pair of tie-died Zubazz and glared at me.
“See? I told you.”
I’ve been dreaming up writing prompts for years. I just decided to add a little substance to a few of them as a writing exercise. They’re obviously not complete stories, but I’m giving myself [and anybody else] a chance to develop them further.