Hah! My email system has this rather weird and disconcerting habit of picking out words in my emails and offering 'appropriate adverts'. Today a friend wrote and asked whether I fancied going to watch some dance at the local theatre. I didn't particularly, but I was very excited by the opportunity offered in one of our appropriate adverts' to enjoy the excitement of a pole dance in my very own home with my very own removable pole, one of which I could even pack up and put in a natty bag to carry with me between office and home. Well, it makes a break from editing, I suppose. Mind you, I'm not quite a novice at these things - I went to a stripping class once with another friend. Actually I'm exaggerating, it was called Six Ways to Remove a Glove and all we did was dance with feather boas and remove gloves, plus a certain amount of 'bottom work' (don't ask), but I can't remember the last time I'd laughed so much. All my other 'class mates' were, like me, women of a certain age, and most seemed to be mothers at the local Catholic school. In the reception area before, one asked another whether her husband knew she was there. 'God no!' she replied. 'He thinks I'm learning how to knit gloves.'
And so my writing prompt for today is going to be ... gloves. I'm not sure whether they're to be removed or not.
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