Just a towel

Clarice was still naked and soaking wet, but Champion was very insistent on being let out. She looked around for a towel but the towel rack was empty. Clarice thought for a moment that she would need to walk naked a wet from the bathroom, down the hall, and into her room before she remembered there were probably other towels in the cupboard above the toilet.

Opening the cabinet, she was surprised to see that instead of a pile of neatly folded towels there was one pink towel bunched up and thrown randomly onto the bottom-shelf. Clarice sighed; she and her roommates had had discussions about keeping the bathroom stocked with enough towels, but here was one measly towel that had probably been used before. It would have to do.

She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself. The pink thing was thin and small, barely wrapping around her completely and barely coming below her butt. She tried to fold it secure but unless she kept a hand on it it was in danger of falling off her. It was a pathetic excuse for a towel all told.

Clarice considered looking for a better towel, but she was the only on there that night and it was just a quick trip downstairs. Shrugging, she walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs, Champion running ahead of her and into the downstairs kitchen, where the backyard door was. She walked through the kitchen to open the door and let Champion out.

He just sat there, in the middle of the kitchen.

“Goddammit dog,” Clarice said.

Champion just sat there.

“Go outside boy!” started slapping her leg, “Come on boy!!”

Champion just sat there.