I threw away my favourite pair of shorts today.
It was a sad day.
I wore them regularly and almost constantly for years. They started life as a brown/kaki colour but had faded to white. They had become threadbare and the hem had ripped in the wash but I managed to get another day’s wear from them on a recent bushwalk. The rip had expanded on the walk and they had become quite dirty and stained; another wash would have been unrealistically optimistic.
I loved those shorts.
They were bought from Target, in Lithgow. They were cargo style. They were on sale at almost half price which immediately made them cherished by a boy whose sensibilities are defined by the Maltese frugal gene.
They had pockets everywhere.
They were a faithful accomplice. Even when past girlfriends hated them, they loyally soldiered on. They suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous female derision but continued to serve me well.
They outlasted relationships.
They stuck by me during fluctuations of belly fat. They travelled with me from Australia to Malta and back again, several times.
Sadly, they won’t accompany me to Malta this year.
I couldn’t bear to part with them in the end and they sat on the dinning room table for four days before I had the fortitude to put them in the wheelie bin. I felt dirty. I felt like a monster.
I said a few words.
Farewell old friend. Until we meet again, in shorts heaven 😞