Thurman made his way down stairs to the kitchen at 6 o‘clock. Halfway it occurred to him he had gone out of his way to put on a pair of gym shorts. To walk down the windowless hall in his own home when no one else was awake.
Why do I bother, he thought. I’m not cold without them. Why put five seconds into something unnecessary? I’m still wearing underwear, it’s not like I’d be naked. No one would care.
You’ll scar your children said Phyllis.
Not if they were used to seeing me without them. It would be normal to see their father walking around in underwear. Also, boxer briefs. Basically shorts, just smaller.
He flipped on the kitchen light as if that were the end of the discussion.
Silence.
But I haven’t done that. They’re not accustomed to it, and they’re too old for me to start now. So you’re right, I would scar my children.
Always said Phyllis.
Thurman poured himself a cup of hour-old coffee and looked at the wall.
The Average Life of Thurman Dogood 