Collar – 139 Words
Ben Azevedo
He ran a finger along the inside of his collar one more time, trying to cool his neck, flattening the tag. This shirt was no different than the other ones he had to wear in the hot summer sun, except for the color, which seemed to attract only the hottest of the sun’s light. He would much rather have gone shirtless and run rampant and carefree through the summer. Those days were over, though. Instead, he wore this shirt-with-a-collar and let the sun etch its marks onto his skin; dark sleeves for his forearms, a preacher’s collar around his neck, and a facemask the color of rich brown soil. Everything the shirt covered stayed blank and undeveloped. He sighed and surrendered to this with the same cheerful amiability to which he had surrendered to so many of life’s responsibilities.
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