Elastic

It's midnight, the end of the day and I pull my stockings off carefully; there's only one small run so far, right over my big toe. It's the first time I've worn them and I want to use them again. One leg is down over my knee, they are white and I am always disappointed, disappointed and a little surprised to find my legs beneath are red and a little prickly, not the cream white of my nylons after all. I am so used to seeing my legs elasticated in nylon/lycra skin it's a bit of a shock to find they don't really look like that after all. I'm not so used to writing anymore; fallen out of practice, out of the Muses' grace. My hand cramps quickly and pencil stutters over the page. I cannot lose this.