“What are you doing eightstates away from home, Mr. Noel Springs? What’s your story?”“Short version?”I couldn’t resist flirting, just a little. “Long. Short. Whatever yagot.”
“Now tell me something. What’s your word for husband?” “Hellren, I suppose. The short version is just hell.” She laughed softly. “Go figure.”
“If you're short on time, that would be the two-word version of our story: we fell.”
“That’s writing, I suppose—dozens of decisions about what’s in, what’s out, what goes with what, what’s clever but not honest, what’s so honest that it’s a truism, what’s meretricious—and all just to produce one short sketch.”
“All short stories long.”
“Long story short: The end.”