Sunday Stripe — Long-Sleeve Tee

By eleven, three people have asked what you're doing with the day. Doing with it is an interesting phrase. You had been under the impression that you were allowed to live in it for a while before deciding what it was for.

One friend has a walk in mind. This develops into a route, a place to stop, and a very specific departure time. Another has found something described as unmissable, which seems an exhausting quality for a Sunday to possess. You send a photograph of the striped top you've put on. They ask whether this means you're coming. It means you have got dressed. You feel this is already quite a useful piece of information.

The oat and aubergine go with the dark trousers you left over the chair. You like the long line, the open neck, the idea of arriving somewhere without having packed for an entire personality. You could meet them for a bit. You could also stop at the bookshop first, where the person behind the counter has never once asked what you intend to achieve with the afternoon.

At half past one you find your friends outside a cafe, arguing pleasantly about whether they have walked far enough. You order something. The route gets folded beneath a plate. Someone asks where you've been, and you take your time answering. There is a book in your bag with a very promising first sentence.

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