On Writing - Suit for the Future

The writers group I go to asked for stories on the theme of "The Future". I'd put it off and put it off with only a vague idea in my head of putting together an outfit from head to toe for some future occasion. Finally, yesterday I sat down to write it, but my mind insisted it be personal. I haven't shopped for any special occasion since I-can't-remember-when, but then it hit me:


Suit for the Future

My father believed in calisthenics for health and fitness. Push-ups, jumping jacks, sit ups.

He kept one black suit in pristine condition, meaning left hanging in a forgotten corner of his closet, but in a well-preserved corner of his mind. “Push ups, jumping jacks, sit ups.” He maintained his fitness regimen so he’d be able to fit into that suit for two specific occasions: my marriage ceremony and his funeral. He stood on a ground more solid than the shifting sands of fashion changes. He had no idea that the suit’s lapel dated him to a time no one else could remember or appreciate.

I was twelve or thirteen at the time; these occasions hung dreamily in my future.

My brothers were both already married. Now 48, I remain unwed. My father was cremated, wearing nothing but God’s teary-eyed gaze.

My father stayed fit to wear a suit for occasions that never came to pass in his lifetime. I wonder if my mother still has that suit in the closet with his ashes, both slipped out of time with the shifting sands of fashion. It’s the lapel that I’ve forgotten, but my father remains etched in my memory.

Mackenzie Littledale

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