http://slow.writerscafe.org/allisontheresa The original writings of author Allison en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775963734 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 #sixwordstory. I used this hashtag to create this story. It was actually an assignment for class where we had to experiment. Each sentence here is six words and is, itself, a story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1906208/             Her grandmother’srecipe for krempita was unparalleled. The cream was gooey and luscious, velvetyand fluffy. It was incredibly sweet from the sugar and the vanilla. Then, as anaftertaste, a hint of lemon would dance along her tongue. She suck.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1897656/ Ifound grace in his eyesWhileall of Judah won loveFromhim. Myths and lullabiesWilltumble from heaven aboveTobless our children with wiseMindsand kind hearts. The skiesForeverstretch around me,Thepale pink of a glorious sunriseComingas a gift from our.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1892708/ Heatrises from the groundTheair sticks in my mouthEventhe grass drips beads of sweatEverythingfades awaySearchingfor somewhere dark and coolDuringthe hot summer monthsI aman oddityScrapingmy plastic sandals Downthe scalding gray asphaltRushing,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1892706/ Shelimps through the gas station and shutters beside the air pump,Wheezinglike an emphysemic old woman who can’t give up her smokes.Ileave her running, this van, this wagon, this boat, this ancientSpacerocket that was damaged, busted, fractured, and blown apart On her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1892705/ Ashallow hole by the side of some roadWet,running, loose mud spread acrossHeavyrain is washing it awayAndI can see your gray hand, dull and limpAbroken finger, an ugly scratch  You’regone, missing in the dark of winterHowwould I know? Ididn&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1892704/             Winnie wanted totake me out to some sweaty, drunk pit that played house music no one had everheard of. She said it didn’t matter if you knew the song. It mattered if youcould feel your heartbeat in your ears and a stranger’s body pushi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1882684/ Visionsand daydreams of placesWhichdon’t exist, or maybe theyDo,but I can’t touch them. They’reFar,far away �" castles, dark and Empty;deserts with an oasis justOutof reach; a busy street where thePavementsends up a hot, rancidB.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1878258/ Thetree in front of my house drips leaves Sored they’re almost purple, hangingLowlike they’re filled with the juice of a ripePlum,and ready to drop to the ground Witha fat thud. Athud, like the sound of a bottle,Thickglass tumbling off the t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1878253/ Blueand gray, gray and blueThecolors change as I watch the wavesGoingout and coming in and going out again Whereare you?  Thewater can thrust over these barriersSplashdown into my gardenAnddrown it whole I’mgoing to wait.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1878252/ Mytiny fingers are so excitedTohave the citron-colored glassTheyreach out and grab a wholeHandfulof sand with it Ithink it looks perfectIbrush away the grit and Holdthe piece between two fingersAndrun back to him I’malways imp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1878251/ A wife and mother makes the decision to leave her family and go on a road trip. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allisontheresa/1878250/