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Along with writing, liberal politics, ambition, a fightin’ spirit, small stature, and bright-eyed enthusiastic energy, my writing pal soul-sister Soloist and I share another characteristic.

We both have a tendency to drape a drying towel over our shoulders when working in the kitchen. Isn’t that wild?

My family gets irked when I do it because they can’t find the towel hanging on the stove when they go looking for it. I put the towel over my shoulder for the sake of convenience. Why run back and forth to the stove if I don’t need to?

This is just the sort of small detail that I like to incorporate into my stories. Heck, it’s the kind of small detail that can make a story. Imagine a world in which a towel placed on the shoulder for convenience becomes such a commonality that it turns into a requirement. Kind of like putting the hand over the heart when saying the Pledge of Allegiance. What if a towel placed over the shoulder became more than a social requirement – perhaps an inviolable law? What if not wearing one was punishable by death? What if?

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