Naked Hangers

They hang, sandwiched between an embroidered work polo and a snarky t-shirt.

They hang, isolated, on what used to be her side of the closet.  A year after she died, a bereaved widower has finally cleared out her blouses.

They hang as trophies to weight loss and donated XXXL football jerseys and handed-down Oxford shirts.

They hang, entombed in the musty basement of a foreclosed split-level.  There, they witnessed a necktie suicide.

They hang, once covered by padded shoulder dresses, pleated tuxedo shirts, and polyester leisure suits.

They hang, naked.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s