- This is my suicide dress, – she told him. – I only wear it on days when I’m afraid I might kill myself  if I don’t wear it.
- You’ve been wearing it every day since we met, – he said.
- And these are my arson gloves.
- So you don’t set fire to something? – he asked.
- Exactly. And this is my terrorism lipstick, my assault and battery eyeliner, my armed robbery boots.
- I’d like to undress you, – he said.  – But would that make me an accomplice?
- And today, – she said. – I’m wearing my infidelity underwear so don’t get any ideas.

So she put on her nervous breakdown hat and walked out the door.

(c) Denver Butson