It all comes out in the wash
Word Count: 100
In the wardrobe, I always endured the jeers of the others... “Get back to the girls’ rooms,” “... Get caught with red socks?” and the like. I ignored them. After all, I was above all of them - I was a favourite!
But sometimes now, I wish I wasn’t. Sharing the washtub with strangers is very difficult.
Those slinky shorts are so suggestive and... well... vulgar. The Chinese silks are so arrogant, they barely condescend to communicate. I’d do anything to avoid touching the filthy, stinky black shirt! Still, at least I get to rub against that cool, green polo neck.