A Design In Your Flaw

Posted: October 4, 2013 in Uncategorized

With a yawn, Lukas punched the alphanumeric code into the keypad that he’d done once a month since his teenage years. The vending machine hummed and spat out a pressed, folded red work uniform shirt, size XL. Lukas squatted, pushing his hand into the glass barrier and past it, reaching into the thin slot and pulling out the parcel. It was slightly warm and smelled of rust. They all were. He wondered about the man who packaged the shirts into the machine, about the workers who folded and ironed them into the same rigid shape, but he did so idly, already humming an advertisement jingle and walking to his workstation. He wouldn’t have to change right away, the mere presence of the shirt on his bench would be enough to get the managerials off of his back for a few hours. When they weren’t looking, he’d pull the small glass bottle out of his bottom drawer, tucked inside of his stapler, and spray the shirt with the scent of lilacs, the scent of home.


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