Stray Threads

Left the building sometime before lunch and out of the corner of my eye I spotted some stray threads on my shoulder. I brushed them off, but — That’s when I realized my shirt was on inside out. Mortified, I ducked behind a car to quickly flip it outside in. Unbelievable. All morning the shirt tag’s been flapping behind me like a little idiot cape and I’m ringed in wild thread like a carnival knock down punk. Who saw me, and furthermore who saw me and didn’t say squat? Do I even have any friends looking out for me anymore?

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