I swear, when the semester is over, I will use my own prompts. This one was the very devil.
Think of a chance encounter that could leave you shaken, stirred, or in deep trouble.
Molly banged the door to the toilet stall and swiftly began to relieve herself. Seeing a familiar pair of beat-up Uggs to her right, she called out , “Becca?”
“Yeah, What’s up.”
“I had such a night! I am so not ready for this test.”
“Me neither,” Becca agreed. “God, I hate theory.”
“I hate theory, I hate this class, and I hate HER.”
Becca’s toilet flushed, and then Molly’s, and she grabbed her backpack and swung the door open.
To see the professor rinsing her hands at the sink. Smiling.
My Gender Mystique blog focuses on my work on clothing, sex, and gender. That's not all I do, so this blog is about everything else.