Each day I’m feeling more and more in balance about my erstwhile friend. I do miss him, but I also feel like I can handle it, and it’s not as big a disaster as I felt it would be when I first got his “break-up” email.
I’ve been writing six-word memoirs, à la Smith Magazine. (I still have no idea if it’s an actual magazine, you know the kind on paper. Anyway I can’t afford a new subscription, so maybe it’s better I don’t know…)
Here are some of my six-word memoirs on this particular topic:Met. Clicked. Leaped.
Looked. Saw. Ran.
“Wow, you too?” “Not so much.”
Could you please be less messy?
Crowded the plate — got brushed back.