Clothes make the man

[Savage Dragon]

The shoes were still a bit new, chronologically speaking. They were a gift from his mother. She'd bought them only two months ago. He wore them the first time he arrived at his new home, they are the only shoes he's worn since then. They don't look new anymore. They've been trecked through mud and water. They have traveled great distances already, distances that allowed him to escape his reality a while. They pushed the pedals of a new bike, also worn by the 20 mile ride he took to the comfort of freindship, only to pedal another 20 miles back the next day.

 

The pants were worn. They were a gift from his sister. They had been suprisilngly well-fitting, not an easy find for him. He'd worn them often. They had three holes in them. Two holes claimed each knee, caused by time. The third was on the thigh, caused by a friend with scissors who was trying to be funny. He was sad that they had worn so much, he'd have to get rid of them soon. He didn't like to get rid of things he cared about.

 

The shirt was old, but still in good condition. It was a gift from a friend. It represented an inside joke that only a few of them understood. He only wore it when he hung out with them. He hadn't worn it in a while. It was tight and made him feel uncomfortable with his appearance. He wouldn't have cared with his friends around. Now he cared.

 

The cross was old and tarnished. It was the last gift from his grandmother. It meant more to him than can be shared, but maybe understood by others. The cross had been completely tarnished when he first recieved it. Over time it had become less tarnished. He liked to think of it as a symbol of his growth. It is about half tarnished now. Its been like that for a while now.

 

He hasn't changed for five days. He hasn't changed for two months.

[Vigil StarGazer]

Nicely Written with an interesting twist in the end.