Write a story or scene involving money.
Write for fifteen minutes. When your time is up, post your practice in the comments section, and if you post, please be sure to leave feedback for a few fellow practitioners.
Here’s my practice:
Who uses cash anymore? For the last five years of my life, money has been numbers on my computer screen that I check occasionally through internet apps which tell me how much is coming in and, more often lately, going out. I can’t tell you the last time I had more than $40 in my wallet, except in those unfortunate incidents when some troglodyte business or government agency only accepts cash and I have to make a feverish run to the bank.
And yet, as I sat in that uncomfortable Jersey hotel room chair, staring at the heaping pile of twenty-dollar bills on the stained bedspread, I had to admit, there was something magical about cash money. Perhaps it was the smell, like linen sheets after sex, like a magazine bought off the rack at the airport before your flight to Barbados, like long fields of white cotton spotted with the flannel shirts and grey sweatshirts of laborers and the dirt and the sweat. Or the way it drew all attention to itself, as if two million dollars had a gravity like a planet and could pull objects into elliptical orbit, try to extract your attention and be drawn back around.