Clothed Maketh The Man — Part 18.

Now, let me remind you precisely where we are. I found myself in my walk in closet, crouching down, in five inch heels. You can’t imagine how that hurts after just a few moments. Just feet from where I was, on the other side of the closet door, was Mandy (my girlfriend), who had arrived at my place and let herself in unexpectedly.

Through the louvres of the closet door I watched and my blood ran cold as I realised she was dialling my number. There by my feet were the trousers with my cell phone in the pocket.

In that moment time seemed to stand still, hanging in the air, like an unplayed note in a musical score. I held my breath

Mandy had returned from her overseas trip and I’d forgotten the date. It had crept up so suddenly and now she was back, standing in my bedroom, looking at a pale pink tee shirt and leggings that were strewn about my bedroom.

I saw the screen glow come on through the fabric of my trousers, and reached down in panic. I squeezed the side of the phone, and my mind racing, I reduced the volume. A moment later I felt the telltale vibration, which told me it was muted. I remained still, holding my breath. I could almost smell her perfume, as she stood just a few feet away puzzling about why my apartment would be empty. And whose clothes those might be. I could almost see the cogs in her mind…