Corduroy


I like the way Corduroy looks.  Don’t you?  It’s classic.

When I was in kindergarten, I remember my mom dressing me in blue corduroys and I hated the sound they made when I ran my fingernails across the wales.

Today, walking behind a woman at the store, I hated that same sound.  Except she wasn’t using her fingernails, if you know what I mean…

Swoosh swoosh swoosh.

I was behind her for too long.  There wasn’t enough room to get around her.  I was trapped and all was quiet except her swooshing corduroys.  Poor legs are probably all dry inside her thighs from the rubbing and the cold, dry weather.

I hope the swooshing wasn’t as painful for her as it was for me.

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