It's Friday again, and I'm writing from a coffee shop piping toe-tapping jazz. This could be interesting. But I do, in fact, have five minutes, so no excuses. To join in this week's Five Minute challenge or to learn more, visit Lisa-Jo Baker's site. Today's prompt is "laundry". Timer's set...GO
In our previous house, we had a laundry line that stretched miles across our soccer field of a lawn. I grew up with clothes horses on my parents' small patch of backyard, but never enough to hang absolutely everything. It took some courage on my part to make use of that whole line: sheets, baby socks, underwear hanging in the breeze, the details of our lives mounted on a flagpole well above the fence line in the afternoon light. It's a suburban sense of privacy - so many pictures from dense cities show line upon line strung along alleyways, across city streets bustling with foot traffic. Millions of eyes could incline a little upwards and gaze on just who all lives in that fourth floor apartment and what they wear under their boots and jackets. But none pictured ever do. Perhaps the world isn't as nosy as I assume.
And stop. Your turn ;)