Here’s a fun game we can all play (If you like games like I do).
Tell me about the last time you wore a t-shirt. Or any time you wore a t-shirt that you remember well.
Make it fun, tell a little story. No pressure. Seriously.
I want to hear your story.
It doesn’t have to be a novella or anything. I (and I think other people) just want to read a short yarn. It could be funny, weird, emotional, angry, philosophical, whatever. It’s probably best to just let it spill out of your keyboard without thinking too much.
Here’s my story and maybe you can use it for inspiration:
I have two full drawers of t-shirts. What can I say, I’m a t-shirt person. After showering off the working-til-3:00 AM grunge, I confronted my selection of t-shirts and asked who was willing to cover my upper torso. Every shirt raised its hand. I picked the faded, thinning, stainy-armpit blue one. There’s a reason it’s fairly beat up and sad – it’s my favorite. I put it on and immediately thought of Jenni, who would want to rip it up and turn it into a laundry room rug. I also thought of my dad, who gave me his old, wearing-thin “Eat One” Florida Orange shirt, long ago when it hung over my skinny frame like a set of drapes. Whatever happened to that shirt?
See? That’s it. A little stream-of-consciousness, a little weirdness. A sort of gazpacho of tales.
Your turn. Tell your story in the comments below. And send a friend here so they can share in the weirdness!