Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Fabric of our Lives

The Crash Worship t-shirt I wear to do yoga, having lost its shape years ago, hangs loose on my body. Holes have begun to blossom in the black fabric, spontaneously volunteering to let light in as the weave of the knit evaporates.

I own a few other shirts like it: a Santa Clara Vanguard shirt from the year they won DCI doing Phantom of the Opera, and a t-shirt of my dad's with the word "TRINITY" on it in block letters that's at least ten years older than my wife.

Mostly I keep them folded away, pulling them out when I go through my drawers looking for clothes to donate to charity - I can't wear them without destroying them further, but I can't bring myself to throw them out.

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