Ezra’s eyes wandered the racks with distate.
¿We don’t have any ordinary shirt @ home?
Mercelo was sliding through shirt after shirt on 1 rack.
I wanted something fresh for him.
Ezra put his hands in his pockets with stiff-in arms as if trying to protect them from the air.
¿Shouldn’t you be getting him a tux or something?
That’s too stiff, said Marcelo as he moved on to ’nother rack.
I wanted something mo’ to his personality. He stopped @ a shirt hanging with its face out. He stepped back & pointed to it.
¿How ’bout this?
Ezra stared witheringly @ a lime T-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it, & then looked ’way.
Where that smiley face is, ¿what if… something seeps into it?
Marcelo turned back to the shirt.
Don’t be silly: they’ll clean that up ’fore we put it on him.
Ezra muttered to himself,
Yes, I’m the 1 being silly…