Knickers. Underwear. Tighty Whiteys. Whatever the name, George hated them: the bulk, the texture, the feel. How could he prevent the feeling of his privates being trapped? Going commando — no undergarments, no problem!
The next day, George went to work sans underthings. It felt wonderful! He had a smile on his face the entire day.
That night, George considered: if he was no longer wearing underpants under his pants, then weren’t his pants in effect underpants?
His earlier freedom felt limited, tainted. What to do?
He went to work the next day naked.
The moral? Beware extending logic too far.
Story Old — untitled
Photo by Cory Schadt on Unsplash
No one knew if the name was deliberate or not, but if it was it was clever. They were teams of pickpockets who would nick valuables from their marks using the distraction of not wearing trousers. Thus the name: Knickers.
Law enforcement was having a difficult time stopping them, despite attempting to extend knowledge of the gang’s modus operandi to the public. How does one prevent a thief from dropping their trousers in a crowded place, thus causing all activity to stop for a moment and giving the accomplices time to work their craft?
Police were, for the moment, stymied.
Links to other sites where I publish:
Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com
Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories
YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva
And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess
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