Supposedly, Hemingway once wrote a story in six words: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." I'm no Hemingway, but I dig the idea of ultra-short stories.
I write them from time to time. You might like some. You can find me on Twitter at @dcwllms.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
His left hit the snare; his right the cymbal. Both feet walloped a bass drum. He sat at the lights waiting for a green - lost in a song in his head. Music'll do that to you.