requiem

I had dropped my pen near my right foot and was on my way to picking it up when I heard this rrrip. Half-squatting, with my right arm near the pen, I stopped and froze. Skin on my right knee peeked through the faded blue of the pair of jeans that I love. I closed my eyes: five years? Has it been that long?

We, all of us, are dealt in life a hand of cards: we either play it well or fold at the slightest bluff. We, some of us at least, are given clothes to wear, and still we choose to buy that single pair of jeans, and we wear it to death.

We stand here today to remember, nay, to celebrate the life of an apparel that has served its high and noble purpose well. Like an actor in a play dealt only with a minor role, it has nonetheless played its role to the teeth.

Old pair of blue, you have borne life well.