Magpie Tales
Mag #132
"It's Black Tie", she ventured softly. He thought he saw her wince.
She could see his chest heave quietly. And though he remained silent, she could sense that he did not hold the same enthusiasm for a champagne and swirling around the room in a chiffon ball gown night. She pouted for a moment and he relented.
The dust engulfed his head as the black "straight jacket" escaped from it's plastic coffin.
"Was I twelve when I last worn this thing?" he muttered to himself.
He caught a sideways glance of his stomach in the mirror as he slipped on the jacket. He thought he heard the telltale snap of some ancient thread, but he pressed on. Gazing at the starched white ruffles and the noose like black tie on the bed, he again gave a heavy sigh.
"I'm gonna need some Jack before I try that."
Laurel. Love Black Tie. He doesn't.
haha i might need to as well...ugh...i def am more jeans and t shirt....and ties are killers....
ReplyDeleteI never did understand ties. Strangulators are what they look like to me.
ReplyDeleteGiggle...shades of Father of The Bride here...
ReplyDeleteI can totally sympathize. I shiver when I think of some of the things in the back of my closet.
ReplyDeleteFun! But you know he would have had that jack regardless!
ReplyDeleteOh what silly fun we weave...and yes I did see that black tie too, but his head hung just a bit too low....he shall rise up and laugh along right!
ReplyDelete...and I meant I saw his head hang low in the artwork, not your writing! :)
ReplyDeleteGetting old is no laughing matter! :)
ReplyDeleteTee hee. That closet sounds like a very scary place. I'm amazed after all these years the bell bottoms and body shirt were still there. :)
ReplyDeleteAh, struggling into the remnants of our past is often difficult...
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
... "was I twelve"... ha ha.
ReplyDelete