Given my recent lack of blog inspiration and my current attendance at the AWP conference in Denver, I think what we need here is a writing prompt. So you here you go.
One of my oldest friends, a single woman who loves her dogs, Gilmore Girls reruns, the Indianapolis Colts, books on tape, and cooking, has recently discovered men’s underpants on her property. Not just one pair.
The first pair of tighty-whities appeared in the dog pen. It was odd, yes, but there was the possibility that one of her crafty dogs had discovered them and pulled them through the fence. Also, where we live, underpants sometimes go missing on the side of the road, over a light wire, and in other extraordinary places.
But then there was another pair in the pen. Then a pair by her mailbox. Then a pair under her car. Yesterday, a second pair appeared under her car. She called the police, who were largely uninterested, though one officer did concede that it sounded like someone was "messing with" her.
She has no enemies that she knows of. No one has expressed an obsession with her. No old lovers are the sort inclined to try to woo her back with their bedraggled underpants. She’s perplexed. Her friends and family are perplexed. Even her small dogs are perplexed.
Only a writer could solve this mystery. So get to work.