I am randomly working on a series dwelling on this bathrobe over at my sisters daughter Allison's house at Marion Place. It is a gated community, high brow and we are so Beverly Hillbilly visiting there. It is where my sister and mother are currently living while my mom rehab's her broken leg and my sister, in her recent retirement from the VA.
The place is like a motel of sorts to me. We do not in our house have bathrobes of this sort. We do not have such nice stuff. But still, I am intrigued by the robe and I am attempting to try and convey that. In this one, the lonliness of losing loved ones. The girl next door, just this week, lost her boyfriend to a motorcycle accident. She in her cookie cutter house(all the houses in this neighborhood, built two feet apart) no doubt went to her bathroom this morning, and there, hung his robe. Who knows.
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