the_borrowed_shirt raze it came in the mail with something he bought, the grey-blue t-shirt with white script on the front. it fit him well, and then it fit him less well as he grew in the small ways the already-grown go on growing, but he wore it still, until she took it with her on the last day they saw each other, a way to keep him connected to her in absentia. he wondered what she was thinking when the soft teeth of his shirt dug into her shoulders — if she'd already assimilated it as if it always had been hers, or if she told herself she was only keeping it warm and giving it fragrance and a body to blanket until she and it returned to him. he wondered if sometime he would be wearing it again with her there, the smell of her on him, or if things that had yet to happen would happen and colour what was felt in a different way and bring him to not want back a thing he never expected to lend. he did wonder. 130917 what's it to you? who go blather from