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.


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.


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