I found an interesting site through an online article. The site invited readers to post six word stories about themselves. I choose some of the the posts that I liked and followed them with my own comments as below:
Coulda, shoulda went to art school.
Me: Lived; could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. I sigh.
Lots of irony. Still no iron.
Me: No worry, you’ll iron it out.
My life is so redundant(ly) redundant.
Me: Love to make life simply simple.
Size five girl, sometimes feels fat.
Me: Great’s nothing to do with height.
Worked with the famous. Still Happy.
Me: Congratulations, it’s easier said than done.
My life’s too ordinary to record.
Me: Ordinary is fortunate in this economy.
Moving soon, new hellos, old goodbyes.
Me: Congratulations, knowing where to move to.
Monday and tired, sitting in class.
Me: Friday, party time, four days away.
One, two, three, four, five, seven.
Me: No, can’t say in six words.
I’ll need more than six words.
Me: One, two, three, four, five, seven.
Wish I knew which road’s right.
Me: Keep going, you will find out.
Occasionally prolific, rarely profound, wantabe writer.
Me: Should it be wannabe or wantabe?
Just forgot everything I just remembered.
Me: Glad to know there is company.
Took a wrong turn, found myself.
Me: Afraid to turn at this age.
I was born June Six, 1966.
Me: Chinese say, “six six, luck flourishes.” (六六大顺)
— 6th month 6, ’66, doubly so.
Looking forward to going home, tomorrow.
Me: Home is where you find peace.
Haven’t quite figured it out yet.
Me: May have partially figured it out.
I want to travel, four kids…
Me: You’ll have time to catch up.
Democrat. Catholic. Enough said.
Me: Yeah, I think I know ya.
I especially like this one from a precocious youth along with a comment from an understanding mature reader:
14 and I worry about health care.
Comment: I hear ya, 60 and worried also.
And then a telling one from a dispirited guy: “Came home, no wife, start over.”
And I laughed out loud on this one: “I like big butts, can’t lie.” .
