Good Material

by Dolly Alderton

Frank Sinatra’s voice, the sound of every December. The kind of voice that lets you believe in an alternate world of luxury and elegance and romance and string orchestras.

I walk to the window and stare out at the washing line. The sleeves take turns to reach out to each other as they dance in the air.

I walk to the window and stare out at the washing line. The sleeves take turns to reach out to each other as they dance in the air.

I take a photo on my phone of the jumper and the shirt in case I forget what it feels like to be loved.