In Six Words

I’m a big picture kind of person, always have been. When painting, I purposefully leave out details, partly because my eyes literally can’t see tiny things, and partly because I get bogged down with so many little things and can’t focus on the picture as a whole.

Same with writing. I write and write and write, and subtract most of it. What’s left is a bare bones small narrative of my very small life.

That is why I was intrigued by something I read on a blog this week. The back story goes something like this: On a dare, Ernest Hemingway once boasted that he could write a compelling story in six words. There’s no evidence that it’s true, but like good fiction, it could be. For our story here, he wrote this:

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Your assignment? Write a six word story to share. With several examples, I’ll go first.

– Another month passed. She wasn’t pregnant.

– Desperate for respect, he overlooked courtesy.

– “Don’t call or write,” he said.

– She prayed. The pain was overwhelming.

– He slammed the gate and left.

– Desperate for attention, she sold herself.

– It was summer. She was cold.