Thanks to CityIslandMichael – I came across this in the New York Post:
ERNEST Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in six words. The result: “For sale: baby shoes, never used.” It’s rumored that Hemingway thought it was his greatest work, and it’s invariably offered as the standard to which micro-fiction should aspire.
So – other writers have taken up the challenge and have come up with their own 6 word stories.
Read them here and see what you think. Hemingway, in my opinion, towers above them all. He evokes an entire WORLD of loss in his, don’t you think?
Now, of course, I’m trying to think of my own.
Once Upon a Time. The End.
Jeebus, that Hemingway story is a killer. I’ll give the six words a try, but it seems pointless after his efforts.
I know. So true.
“Won’t she suspect?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
I don’t even remember her face.
I told you I was sick.
Fun!
“Will you marry me?”
“No.”
[GUNSHOT]
The power of Hemingway’s version is such that it comes at the end of the story. Everything before can be gathered from the end.
Reading this just now makes it particularly weird. A distant relative of mine had to have an emergency C-section. The baby didn’t get enough oxygen, and they took it off life support yesterday, and it lasted all of 4 hours. So sad.
Here’s my version:
“Couldn’t take it. Went crazy. Dionysus.”
Steve
What the fuck am I thinking? Took it off life support? Took HIM off life support. His name was Corey. He never had a chance. God, I’m an asshole sometimes.
Steve
I loved her, then she died.
“I loved her, then she died.”
That reminds me of that one CHiPs episode where Ponch meets this great girl and they fall in love and then at the end she gets hit by a car.
Ponch never recovered, only to show up in bad pornos later on in life.
Steve
Never recovered, showed up in pornos.
That’s amazing. I had tried to read Hemingway previously–with little success–but on vacation last week (Outer Banks, no better place on Earth) I read The Old Man and the Sea and I loved it.
The horse, while leading, broke down.
She fought hard and died destitute.
“I thought I was free. Not yet.”
Who can top “Baby shoes for sale. Never used.”?
I mean that’s just too profound. I feel immense sadness reading that.
No my wheels are turning.
She hungered; life left her wanting.
The problem is, we are trying to force emotion. Hemmingway’s brilliance is that he left it floating out there, implied and dangerous. This is a great post, Sheila.
She never found her way home.
Sunny days only darkend his mood.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Halt. Bang.
Dearest: Great post [and great attempts by your readers as well]. The Hemingway quote reminded me immediately of that play you were in where you try to sell the junglejim set. Same idea, with that aura of total loss. love, dad
Dad –
Funny. That’s immediately what I thought of, too, when I first read it. So so moving. That was quite a play.
Coney Island. Doubts couched, she lived.
Forgive you? Never. I am ruined.
(red, I absolutely hate/love you for doing this to me. I know my submisions suck, but that’s not the point. This is cerebral chewing gum, and just what I need…another mental addiction. Thanks. And I mean it. Thanks.)
The apartment was empty. No note.
“I’m leaving you tomorrow.”
“I’m glad.”
All the invitations came back soiled.
The door closed
The crying stopped
The door closed
The crying stopped
Love you
I’m sorry
Goodbye forever
they said rsvp. none came back.
The beaker burst. Blood boomeranged everywhere.
-or-
Ants crawled across her scared corpse.
-or-
Lighting struck the sploshing swimming pool.
I think the magic of Hemmingway’s creation is not only the emotion that it evokes, but the infiniteness of the rest of the story and the rhythm of the words. The repeatation of the the ‘s’ sound in ‘sale’, ‘used’ and ‘shoes’ creates a sad whisper, almost telling the reading to be quiet.
Note: the three 6 word stories above are copyrighted 2004 by me, the author, and to reprint them you must seek my permission. (Not to sound snobby, but as a writer I must protect my work)