October 8, 2014

        Cracks were starting to show. My one-time preoccupation with looking good in public had slowly given way to feeling safe. This meant that my ample collection of properly starched dress shirts, worn among clean-lined, tailored suits had given way to a select few dress shirts that hadn’t been “tainted” through an unwanted encounter. And I was now alternating among two suits that had long lost their crisp form. The suits had grown frumpy and the wrinkles needed serious professional ironing, instead of just smoothing out with a wet hand, which is what I had been doing for a while now. At this stage most of my dress clothes had been thrown out because they had....continue reading