Wash Day She left the pink velvet in the August afternoon rain to observe from a bedroom window its patient performance. Drop by drop by drop along the plain, broad shoulders rain proceeded, darkening to a deeper shade the fabric, enveloping the simple neckline and shapelessness of the bodice where her breasts would swell. Absorbed in this vigil of absorption, she watched ample waist and long skirts become ever more weighted, preparing soon to collect, to cling to her thighs. Then at last at dusk the scalloped edge of the hem released drop by drop by drop the garnered rain to the earth. She slid into that wet . . . pink . . . skin . . . and blushed most deeply.
‚Watermelon Velvet‛ by E. A. Hanninen, 2010
gown she had sewn hanging