Jezebel

Jezebel pulled her perfectly worn in jeans up to her thighs; that's where they stopped. "You have got to be kidding me" she said. "not today" breathed her jeans.
She looked at herself in her dim mirror, in her dimly lit room. When had her body morphed into one from a women's prison movie from the 60's? She took another tug at her jeans. "No" they said.
Maybe she could make the 60's look work for her. The jeans went gracefully sailing out of her third floor window.


Patience found a pair of perfectly worn in jeans on the lawn outside of her condo. They looked like they might be her size. She took them home and set them on the sofa; eyeing them over a cup of java and a song by Jack Johnson. When she tried them on, as they slipped effortlessly over her thighs, she could swear she heard an "ahhhhh" sound. They looked good.

Prudence was lazily stirring the raw sugar around in her herbal tea. The cafe was quiet this morning. So far, the only action had been a woman who looked like she was lost in the 60's, who had received a nice compliment from a beautiful young girl in faded jeans, and a young man in a straw hat.
It was starting to rain. She opened her book.