Six Word Stories

According to legend, Ernest Hemingway once wrote a six-word story to settle a bar bet and he claimed that the result was his best work: "For sale: baby shoes. Never worn."

Way back in 2006, the magazine Wired got hold of some other famous writers and asked them to do the same. My favorites are William Shatner's

"Failed SAT. Lost scholarship. Invented rocket."

Joss Whedon's

"Gown removed carelessly. Head, less so."

Orson Scott Card's

"The baby's blood type? Human, mostly."

Robert Jordan's

"Heaven falls. Details at eleven."

David Brin's

"Dinosaurs return. Want their oil back."

Margaret Atwood's

"Corpse parts missing. Doctor buys yacht."

And once again, David Brin's

"Mind of its own. Damn lawnmower."

Apparently, it's become something of an internet phenom, because I found several other websites all linking to the Wired article and asking their readers to get in on the fun. A healthy selection:

Reluctantly, I welcomed our robot overlords.

Lived to be ninety. No regrets.

Still waiting for her to call.

Cruel and unusual? It's only pie.

Once upon a time, the end.

Ran for president. Lost. Grew beard.

To my surprise, she chose me.

Lucky, yes. But my twin wasn't.

She loved again. I never did.

She watched the world end. Again.

It wasn't her fault. Not entirely.

Debates have rules. This was war.

The secret to eternal happiness is

They fell in love. Problems ensued.

Oh God! My body's over there!

See that shadow? (It's not yours.)

The Earth? We ate it yesterday.

Womb. Bloom. Groom. Gloom. Rheum. Tomb.

Essay due tomorrow. Wrote this instead.

Our baby lived for thirty minutes.

Snow? In July?! Oh, wait... it's crack.

Horses: punched right in the face.

Also, apparently a couple years back someone won a nation-wide essay contest on "good government" by submitting "Good government. Good government. Sit. Stay." And now, I'm forced to ask you to come up with some. Sorry, my hands are tied by the blogger's code. Have fun.