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.
Friday, May 2, 2014
852. The shadow of the carving knife
The knife traced an arc; something obscure but mathematical. It cut deep. The knife came away wet. The crowd gasped.
