Zipper

The stupid zipper on her jeans would not stay up. Joan had to constantly watch that it had not fallen, exposing the colour of her panties to everybody in the hall. She would get comments from the guys like, “Ooooh, my favourite shade of blue.” And it was just when she had gotten those jeans the way she liked them – soft and faded, the big bells frayed out with a soft fringe at the bottom. And comfortable, too – stretched out in the right places so they hugged her hips without squeezing them. She did not want to give them up.