Six-Word Memoirs

"For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn"

Six word stories are tricky to master, but as soon as you get into a rhythm, I think they're pretty wonderful and fun to write! I could write them for hours, I think. Or at least one hour, before I got distracted.

Six Word Memoirs:

I'm a bit long winded, so...

Pardon me, pass the parmesan cheese.

I make up words. They understand.

I nan cever weep kords straight.

Ummmm, I, um, don't, um, know.

It is always the right time.

Can't I have five more minutes?

IsmushwordstogethertogetineverythingIneedtosay. It's kindof hard to read.

Everyone wipes tears. But not blush?

I think it'll take more time and brewing to actually come up with anything profound.

The Question

The Question

"Have you ever been in love?"
he asks me.
I am seventeen,
and to myself I think,
softly,
that each one of us
trips into love
over and over and
over
again in our lifetimes,
until,
just once,
the universe grants us the magic
to make it work.
Aloud
I reply, softly,
"I don't know."
When he presses,
I explain
that one may never know
if they have been in love
until the end of one's lifetime,
in the same way
that one cannot say which
flower smells the sweetest
until they have sniffed a good many.
I think the elderly much wiser
and glad, even,
to know whether or not
they have ever been in love.
Perhaps it's why old,
wrinkle-etched faces
always look so decidedly happy
or so decidedly
sad.

Privelege and Bragging.

I have a permanent library pass during my study hall, thanks to my membership on the debate team. I think the general idea is that the debate kids will use this to their researching advantage, and use their time to better their cases, but this rarely happens. But that doesn't mean time is entirely wasted. Oh, no. Once in awhile I even crack open a book and do my homework.
There are a good number of perks that go along with this pass. Firstly, that the librarians do particularly like all of us, and so they feed us regularly. But secondly, and perhaps sweeter, is seeing the privelege in action. That is, watching all of the annoying, make-out-in-the-hallway type kids get refused entry.
It's satisfying, and probably inflates my ego more than is necessary.