400 Words


About 400 Words

400 Words is a storytelling project. It is a print magazine and a website, consisting of true stories, none over 400 words, by ordinary people on assigned themes. It's about the documentation of everyday life, saying a lot by saying a little. You can learn more, or order a copy, or tell a story of your own.

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Issue 2, Compulsions:
What can you not not do?

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Issue 1, Autobiographies:
Tell the whole story of your life in 400 words or less.

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An Autobiography of My Best Friend

This is a variation I haven’t seen yet: a 400-word “autobiography” of someone else. I like the way it reminds me of The Catcher in the Rye on lithium. —ed.

by Krammer Abrahams—Age 24—Boston, MA

I was born a Jew. My brother was born a gay Jew. A dog lived with our family. I have a sister. I don’t know anything about her. I do not care. In first grade I kicked a classmate. He said, “Owen, I like you, but you can be such an asshole.” In middle school I went out with this girl named Emily. It didn’t last. I decided to try this girl name Leah. That didn’t last either. I hadn’t learned what love was yet. In high school I was a baby punk. I went to punk rock shows in my friend’s grandmother’s church’s basement. Sometimes I drove my parent’s Ford Expedition. They are well-to-do people. My mother writes children’s books. My father is a lawyer. Sometimes he rides a bike. They weren’t happy with my grades. I was sent away to prep school. I lost my virginity to a girl named Amy. I loved her. She bought me a parakeet. I don’t love her anymore. I don’t know what happened to her. I started a band while at prep school. We were called Trombonium Pandemonium. We don’t exist anywhere besides in the mind. Somehow I got into college. I went to Boston University. I met a kid name Greg. He said, “Yo! My name is Greg.” Greg sang in a band. He helped me make a band. We were called Jaguarz. I liked to sing about jungles and eating other animals. About this time I fucked two more girls. One was named Olendorf. The other was named Grindmadderas. Just kidding. Their names were Laura and Wendy. Laura was you’re average party girl college chick. Wendy was a little more unique. Her father was a great trumpeter. By the time senior year rolled around I had begun drinking and doing drugs. I also met this good looking girl named Kalisha. We made babies without the nine-month responsibility. After graduation I said goodbye to her and hitchhiked to California with a friend. When I returned home I couldn’t get a decent job, ended up working in a wine shop, and fell in love with a girl name Estefania. She didn’t like me. Now I live in New York. A girl let me shave her head yesterday. I’m in love with her.


3 Comments

I like the ‘rapid-fire’ effect of this- easy to feel the emotion and the search for it as in the last line.

Posted by metheothertwin on 30 June 2008 @ 9pm

I like it!

Posted by jamie on 27 February 2010 @ 2pm

bour

Posted by joana on 2 December 2011 @ 10pm

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