Bespoke

Mar 15th, 2019 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Gordon hated being measured. It wasn’t just the crinkled-paper hands running over his body, but also the implication that in the intervening months he had changed shape.

This was the price he paid for original attire. Whether it was too familiar touches or jealous stares, Gordon’s success was a constant chore. Yet these labors must be endured, for triteness was the precursor to death.

Let the old man fondle his buttocks, and the common folk stare at his unconventional wardrobe. He was one of the few people in the world that could claim he was truly one of a kind.

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