capture the light
capture the stars
be the spirit

dance on rainbows
dance on cars
be the spirit

smile when down
smile, don't frown
be the spirit

The skies have rendered everything a pale grey.
Not used to our own thoughts, the screams still ring in our ears.
We are all wandering under the ash rain, eyes low.
Nothing heard, nothing said.
There’s not much of us left, not much of anything.
After this agony, where will we go?

When these wounds heal, and the skies finally clear.

All we will have is a wasteland.

The Pandemic in Six-Word Memoirs
“The world has never felt smaller.”

By Larry Smith
Mr. Smith is the creator of Six Word Memoirs.

Since 2006, I’ve been challenging people to describe their lives in six words, a form I call the six-word memoir — a personal twist on the legendary six-word story attributed to Ernest Hemingway: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

I’ve found that some of the most memorable six-word stories arise in the extremes — during our toughest and most joyous moments. So over the past several months, I’ve asked adults and children around the country to use the form to make sense of this moment in history: one person, one story, and six words at a time.

Not a criminal, but running masked.
— Stella Kleinman

Every day’s a bad hair day.
— Leigh Giza

Home ec: rationing butter, bourbon, sanity.
— Christine Triano

Cinemagraph
Can’t smell the campfire on Zoom.
— Melanie Abrams

Deserted crowded Manhattan, my own island …
— Elisa Shevitz

Eighth hour of YouTube. Send Help!
— Leela Chandra

Cinemagraph
Messy hair, messy room, messy thoughts.
— Lily Herman

I regret saying, “I hate school.”
— Riana Heffron

Read every book in the house.
— Francesca Gomez-Novy

Cinemagraph
Never-ending, but boredom doesn’t faze me.
— Lily Gold

Required school supplies: screens, screens, screens.
— Darshana Chandra

Won scrabble; smile breaks through mask.
— Abby Ellin

Cinemagraph
Tuning out parents, under my headphones.
— Lukas Smith

This is what time looks like.
— Sylvia Sichel


Bad time for an open marriage.
— Rachel Lehmann-Haupt

Cinemagraph
Sun-kissed lips? Not kissed this year.
— Twanna Hines

Avoiding death, but certainly not living.
— Sydney Reimann

Social distancing myself from the fridge.
— Maria Leopoldo

Cinemagraph
Dream of: heat, limbs, crowds, concerts.
— Amy Turn Sharp

Teacher finding inspiration through uneasy times.
— April Goodman

Slowly turning into a technological potato.
— Jad Ammar

Cleaned Lysol container with Lysol wipe.
— Alex Wasser

Cinemagraph
Hallway hike, bathtub swim, Pandora concert.
— Susan Evind

Numbers rise, but sun does too.
— Paloma Lenz

Afraid of: snakes, heights, opening schools.
— Michelle Wolff

The world has never felt smaller.
— Maggie Smith

Cinemagraph
How do you make sense of this moment in history?

Share your own six-word memoir in the comments. We’ll feature some of our favorites in a future article.

From the writer’s chair
Words explode from thought

Rising from the seat
With both feet planted
As roots in the soil

Head soaking up the sun
Like photosynthesis

The lips, the gateway of the mind,
open to form the singing of birds,
the blooming of daffodils,
and the colors of paintings.

Misused abused tough
body hits and heart attacks
only bleeding love

The Seine river banks,
with their lack of guardrails, freaked
me out in fourth grade:

"Avez-vous entendu?!!"
My best friend rushed to ask it.
"Did you hear?! (the news)"

A woman drowned!!
She gushed - the horror tale
punch line delivered.

My eyes were wide with
shock and fear - the monster takes
another victim!

The dark Seine river
slithered, like a green snake
- feet from my front door.

There was no railing
- a misstep would drop you some
12 feet, to your cold death.

No parent could save
you - a terrifying thought for
a nine year old girl.

Walking to school, my
brother would sneak up, nudging
me near left-bank death.

I would scream, amid
cat calls and boyish laughter,
despite our au pair.

My best friend, Chloe, shared
my caution, if not my fear,
and loved to tease me.

That rapid river
loomed large in my dreams - as fears
can - for many years.

Last year we were in
Paris and I still couldn't go
near the riverbank  =]

I stood atop
a mountain;
beneath was
everything I am.
I grinned when
I felt the wind
and nodded to
my inner man..
No doubt I've
seen some troubles;
crevices etched
in my terrain
from the rushing
roar of rivers
brought by days
of relentless rain,
but these scars,
they tell the stories
of the storms
I've had to weather
and serve as a
reminder that
these storms
don't last forever..

The inner circle of the big candle is in the center,
The big candle is the candle light of The Christ.
This light is the flame; that light's the outward candles of the circle; they are the students of The Christ and their light shines into the darkness,
The outward darkness can't overcome this small; but strong light,
There is no inner darkness with this inner Christ flame in the students of The Christ,
The darkness tried to overcome this great candle light, but the light is everlasting,
The thirteen lights of Gnosis can't be overcome, because thirteen is the number of perfect unity,
The Christ candle light shines into the darkened hearts of humanity,
The Christ candle light shines into the darkened hearts of humanity,
The Christ candle light shines into the darkened hearts of humanity.