I can hardly think about my favorite jacket without remembering (still bitterly), the roommate who threw it away in anger. When I see a balloon floating into the sky, I think of an old friend who threatened to attach his wedding band to one end of a string and let the helium guide it away. Sometimes I wonder if I fell in love with Randi after reading an essay she wrote for Marisa’s class (years ago) about the objects that she had lost (as a way of rendering the passing of time and the loss of her house). And so between my own memories and Marisa’s post, I bring you this writing prompt:
If you haven’t written about an object yet (or even if you have), try its afterimage: the object(s) you have lost.