Drabble #10

Summer dresses have it so easy. They never have to share—not with sweaters or tights or scarves or coats or anything. Me, I’m always fighting with all the other layers. Well, the underwear knows its place, which is a blessing, but the coat—lord, you’d think the coat would know by now, but every single time it grabs, grabs, grabs, until I’m all pulled up and lumpy. I hate that. But summer dresses don’t ever worry about that. Summer dresses drift blithely along, never bunched up or staticky, perennially on the way to a picnic. I’ve never been to a picnic.