Here are some of my guesses for how she picks a cue.
1. She closed her eyes and opened the dictionary (book with paper pages) and randomly pointed to somewhere on the page. The word where her finger landed was it.
2. The cue was the second word in the title of a book on her nightstand.
3. It was a word on the first bumper sticker she saw that day.
4. It was the fifth word on a Chinese fortune cookie.
5. It was something she saw outside that morning.
Okay, enough of my ideas and on to my Six Sentence Story, a little historical fiction, with emphasis on "little."
Her four-year-old self was very thirsty, and her shoulder length hair was sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck. As she stood impatiently watching her dad place the last metal siphon pipe into the irrigation ditch, her little brother was trying to twist away from her grip on his sweaty hand. During the tussle she stepped back and the surprise poke of a cocklebur on her ankle caused her to let go of his hand. He laughed, knowing he was free, and started running alongside the ditch as she tried to catch up with him. Since he was only two, he wasn't as sure footed as she was and stumbled, propelling himself head first into the water-filled ditch. She rushed to grab his slippery muddy lower limb and pull him back onto the bank to console him before taking his hand and heading for the house to get some dry clothes, and some lemonade.