I was given the prompt to write a story in six sentences or less. Here is my attempt.
The girl grew up on the “west” side of town. The average middle-class white kid either thought he was the reincarnation of Jack Kerouac or a bullet-addled thug; his parents thought themselves the only people who had ever had to deal with a stupid child. The farmboys really were farmboys, chewing and spitting into the Mountain Dew bottle with one hand while swigging a Bud with the other. No one was really quite sure how they drove their Ford F-150s with bottles in both their hands. The hipsters and the thugs looked past the farmboys and liked to pretend they lived in the inner city—with coffee houses on corners and gunfights in alleys and all that shit that people think happens in the middle of a city. The girl worked at the library and watched the crazy homeless man shuffle past every day, wondering if this weren’t the inner city after all.
Liz Makes Stuff 