Monday, February 11, 2008


(glove slap, baby glove slap...)

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...

"Love me?"

"Too bad."


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!


cs harris said...

Have a great time!

SzélsőFa said...

My six times six words here:

Anonymous said...

I'm thinking. It might be a while.

(Uh, that's not my story. I'm actually trying to think of one. I'll get back to you).

Charles Gramlich said...

You are a sick man. But I like that. As for my story:

Satan wants love. Glad I'm ugly.

Shauna Roberts said...

Three stories from me.

On the rooftop Fideaux howls.

Ripped open, I scream
joyfully. Twins.

"Mother, a successful hunt!"
"Dearest Grendel!"

Lana Gramlich said...

Swimming with dolphins??? You lucky b@st@rd! Enjoy. :)

Sphinx Ink said...

Oh, Steve--so creative. I'm charmed!