The first think I think of when given the word “element” is the Periodic Table of Elements and chemistry class. Even though when I am writing I am in my element, I can’t seem to write a poem about that. Earlier this week I did write a 6-Sentence Story having to do with chemistry. I was really good at it in theory, but when I got into the lab, I learned that I am not good at chemistry at all; in fact, it terrified me, so I changed my college major.
This story was written almost SoC-style, except the last half of the last sentence was from ChelleBee.
Should she stay at her current university, while changing her major, or should she transfer to a different one? She didn’t know what to do with the next year, let alone the rest of her life.
Returning to her childhood home, the trunk of her life’s tree, she tried to discern where to go from there, which branch to take next. A year at the community college, taking various classes, turned into three, and a few more years intervened between then and eventual graduation. In terms of college units, she had started out ahead of her classmates, but she had ended up behind every one of her peers; though she was not entirely unhappy with her life, she and her parents thought that she would have accomplished much more by now.
At the time, she was unaware of how momentous her decision to change her university would be, but years later she realized that that had been the defining moment of her life.

