Void

I have no idea what happened to my pants. When I walked into the department store I was wearing a pair of black pants. The reason I was at the department store is because I wanted to buy another pair of black pants. I found a pair of black pants that I wanted to buy and I took them into the changing room with me. I took off the pair of black pants that I was wearing when I entered the department store and put on the pair of black pants that I wanted to buy. The pants felt like they fit. I walked out of the changing room and around the floor of the men’s department because I am a firm believer that you can’t really know if a pair of pants fit you unless you walk around in them. When I came back into the changing room I noticed that my black pants were missing. My wallet and keys and phone were in those pants. I asked the man who worked in the men’s department if he could help me find my black pants but he wouldn’t help me. He told me that if I wasn’t going to buy the black pants I was wearing then I had to take them off immediately or else he was going to call security. I took off the black pants that I was going to buy and put my shoes back on. Now I was wearing a black shirt, black underwear with white trim, black socks and black shoes. I was not wearing any pants. I had no money, no credit cards, no identification, no phone and no keys. I took the escalator down and walked through the women’s department. I was looking for the next escalator but it was hard to find. I tried to look normal. I wanted people to think that I wasn’t wearing any pants on purpose. I perused a rack of winter gloves and tried a pair on. The gloves had silver sparkles on them and I asked one of the women who worked in the section if they had a smaller size. I told her I was looking for a Christmas gift for my wife. I don’t have a wife and it was the middle of May. The woman did not answer me. I finally found the next escalator and took it down to the ground floor. In order to walk out of the department store I had to walk through the cosmetics section. I did not walk fast because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I put my hands behind my back and lightly whistled. I stopped in front of counter full of bottles of nail polish. I picked up a sample bottle of purple nail polish, opened it, brought it to my nose and sniffed. I asked the women behind the counter if they had any more bottles of purple nail polish for sale and she didn’t answer me. I tried to put the bottle back down on the counter, but I accidentally dropped it and purple nail polish spilled all over my hands. I exited the department store and found some loose change on the ground. I walked over to a pay phone and called for a cab. I explained my situation. I told them I wasn’t wearing any pants. I said that as soon as I got back to my apartment I would run upstairs and get the money I owed the driver. They said fine and twenty minutes later I was picked up by a cab. On the way to my apartment the cab driver told me that right before me he had been driving around a small film crew. He said the film crew was sitting up front with him and filming a guy in the back seat. He said the guy was some writer and they were filming a promo for the writer’s new book. When I asked who the writer was the cab driver said he couldn’t remember. When I asked what the book was about the cab driver said he couldn’t remember, but that the writer had left a copy on the floor of the cab. I looked down and didn’t see any book. The cab driver said the book may have gone underneath the front seat. I reached under the front seat and pulled out the book. The title of the book was Void. I opened the book and there was nothing but blank white pages. The entire book was empty. I put the book back under the front seat. The cab driver asked me how come I wasn’t wearing any pants. I told him I had no idea what happened to my pants. The cab driver told me not to worry about it. He said he wasn’t wearing any pants either.

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One thought on “Void

  1. There’s a fellow near me who hasn’t been able to post a letter for nearly quarter of a century for fear of forgetting something important…he stands there unable to let go. He doesn’t know the difference between pants and trousers.

    I cured myself of stammering when I was 23…this level of anxiety has taken me back 34 years.

    Like

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