The Tiny Dynamo and I are relocating our Secret Headquarters this week. This involves a lot of stumbling around, trying to figure out which box I put my pants in.
In a situation like this, there's only one thing to be done: leave town for a couple days. Yup, we'll be enjoying warm and sunny Akaroa, swimming with dolphins and eating at C'est La Vie. Oh yeah...
Perhaps when I come back, I'll be able to find my pants...
While I leave the internet unattended, I throw down a gauntlet:
Write me a story.
A short story. How short? Really short. Really, really, *really* short: six words.
We've all heard Hemingway's six word story. "For sale: baby shoes, never used."
Or, there're some mighty fine ones up over at Wired. I've even gone ahead and whipped up a couple of my own...
Her lips: soft.
Her head: severed.
I know what you're thinking, and I agree: you can write better than that. So get going, I wanna see your shorts!