Monday, April 13, 2009

A short story.

I work in an office park far from any place that kids would frequent. Hell, it's not a place grown-ups would frequent if they had a choice.

But one morning I got out of my car and came upon these little sandals sitting in the morning light. It looks like a little girl had stepped right out of them.

Whose are they? Does she miss them? How did she lose them? Were her parents mad?

These little sandals inspired all sorts of conjecture and isn't that the beginning of any story?

I was reminded of Hemingway, when challenged to write a complete story in six words he came up with this:

"For Sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."

It's a high standard he's set.


RedTree said...

I like that. What would be your six word story?

David Terrenoire said...

That's a challenge, Gary, I'll have to think about it. It'll be tough to come close to what the old man did.

pattinase (abbott) said...

The thing that is so good about his is that it makes you ruminate. Too many six word sequences just explain a picture or idea: Grass between my toes, it's heaven. No story there.
Sorry, you made me think here. Always a bad thing.

Milo said...

There's a book published on this very subject entitled "Not quite what I was planning, six-word memoirs by writers famous and obscure." Pretty amusing.

RedTree said...

How about his one from Augusten Burroughs-

"Oh that? It's nothing. Not contagious."

David Terrenoire said...

Here's my six-word story. Not as good as Papa's, but I tried:

"A mother, now childless, seeks divorce."

Becca said...

Wow-- those shoes are still there?!!? I found them separated in the parking lot MONTHS ago and put them together in the grass, hoping the owner would see them. I've been gone since January, and I know it was at least several weeks before that. Poor Cinderella's never found her missing shoes ...