In the sultry haze of cigarette smoke exhaled from the lungs of the lost generation; poets, artists, authors, and every other type of down-world dreamer taps their feet to the music of the 1920s jazz scene. Comfortably nestled in the center of the room at a table right off of the bar Ernest Hemingway, Francis Key Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, and Thomas Wolfe sit debating a topic far above the heads of those whose lungs didn't know how to handle the air in this bar. Everything about this place made you feel, every breath challenged lung cancer, every word teetered on forbidden, every glance a dare. Hemingway raised his whiskey soda to his lips as he looked around the table. Fitzgerald had just sent him a letter telling him to end A Farewell to Arms with, "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure that it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry." Hemingway responded with his usual amount of sardonic bite, a colorful form of no. As Fitzgerald stared across the table with his, "excited and friendly eyes," he offered up a challenge knowing that Hemingway, a man who could never shy away from the opportunity to thrust his masculinity in the faces of all wouldn't be able to refuse. He said, "I'll make you an offer. Unless any other sorry soul here can write an entire story in six words, then Ernest will adopt my conclusion to A Farewell In Arms as the adequate wrap to his commentary on the everyday tragedy that is humanity." And with that he sat back with a sparkle in his eye raising his Old Fashioned Lime with Gin and a touch of soda water to cover his smirk. Fitzgerald, believing that Hemingway had always been a better writer than himself, knew that Hemingway would come out the victor yet. The writers immediately got to work. Their brows creased in frustration though their minds were alight with the excitement of a challenge. A small dish at the center of the table overflowed with tobacco reduced to grey ash. Fitzgerald offered to go first his story read,"I hope she'll be a fool." which the rest of them immediately recognized as a quote from his then flop of a novel, The Great Gatsby. Close, but no cigar. Stein's read, "There never has been an answer." Interesting, but this was an excerpt from her novel, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. Wolfe's read, "One belongs to New York instantly." All four of the writers nodded their head with respect to this one. It was intriguing but it was simply a statement, not a story. All heads turned to Hemingway, he spoke with his usual air of macho arrogance, "My dear friends, you see.. you cannot pull an entire story from an old on, you must birth an entirely new one. It is as if you all have attempted to present the same gift in new packaging as if the suspense will be the same as it were the first time. No." Hemingway paused and focused on each set of eyes around the table before he brushed the bit of ashes from his page, "For sale; baby shoes, never worn." The mouths of Stein, Fitzgerald, and Wolfe parted slightly in question as Hemingway stared directly at Fitzgerald he recited what would be the actual ending to A Farewell to Arms, "It was like saying goodbye to a statue. After awhile I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain." END
1 Comment
Don Goble
3/12/2019 08:31:12 am
Terrific storytelling and imagery written, Caroline! Did you happen to find any interesting websites that offered six word stories or memoirs from other authors?
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AuthorCaroline M. Washington is a student who blogs about films. Archives
May 2019
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