Thread or Alive: A Sentient Henley Short Story

by R C

For some people, winter is the personification of pure misery - seasonal depression, wet shoes on your way to work, your umbrella turning inside out in the frigid wind. But for me? For me, winter is a bondafide 3 month long excuse to do fuck all.

Strong start

After I’ve lit the fire and unpacked my groceries, I pick up my laptop and the stack of new books and flop down on the couch. I’m starting a buddy read with one of my online friends tonight and we’re setting up to live chat our reactions, it’s a new release so I’m betting there will be plenty of feral screeching gibberish and flooding memes sent back and forth. As we should.

I love being a gurl

it’s like they’ve become this ‘better than a tshirt’ option when spoiler alert - you just put 3 useless buttons on a long sleeved tshirt.

lol

and I see in fact, there are those three little bitchy buttons that have zero purpose. It is indeed, a headless henley.

‘HENLEYS HAVE BEEN THE FASHION OF CHOICE FOR ROMANCE NOVELS SINCE THE AGE OF THE MILLENNIAL. WE TRIED TO REASON WITH THESE NEW AUTHORS BUT NOW THEY MUST PAY THE PRICE’.

‘If you’re going to have slutty buttons, maybe you should commit and be an actual shirt you dumb fuck’. ‘MILLENNIALS HAVE PROVEN WE ARE DESIRABLE YOU FOOLISH GIRL, YOUR STATEMENTS HAVE NO VALIDITY’

I’m cackling

I absolutely cannot die at the hands of a fashion crime, that’s so embarrassing for me.

Stop. Why is this so fucking funny