I tossed the circle of string into the air where it snagged on the left hook of the coat rack in my bedroom, like a pair of panties flung during a passionate movie scene.
The string fling was an experiential writing class prompt to inspire a personal story about one’s life; toss the string and tell a story about what it lands on, the shape of it, or the exercise experience.
My first thought was passion and panties. Could I write about that? Sadly, the only…
