Looking at the blue jeans I have on today, I remember buying them when I was much younger. They were dark blue, whereas now they are washed blue, showing dots of white throughout. A stylish rectangular hole, approximately two by three inches, bares my knee. The tear had its start on a backpacking trip. I’d like to say a sharp rock abraded the cloth while I knelt to splash my face, but memory has its limits. I had a dog then. If he was here, he would lick my knee and then curl up on the floor for a nap.
Looking Back
Published
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 