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.
Monday, March 14, 2016
936. The Sin Number
The supplicant waited. Saint Peter dropped brass token after brass token on the scale. It tilted. "It's purgatory yet for you, my boy," sighed Saint Peter as he looked past the supplicant down the endless line of sinners.
