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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

By Dan Heffron

Had a brother, he was older
She shot morphine, in her shoulder
Didn't hide it, she did not care
Saw the needle, I was there
Go ahead then, stick the needle in
Push your medicine

Cut marks on your legs and arms
Needle sticks can't do more harm
Go ahead then, stick the needle in
Push your medicine

'That's illegal, there's no excuse'
Go on girl, push your juice

When you cut you, you bleed red
They bleed white, those poppy heads
It's ok, go ahead
Push your meds

No don't swallow, use the needle, make it last
You'll loose 1/3 by first-pass
That, and the needle's fast
Go ahead then, stick it in
Push your medicine

You're out of smokes? And milk too?
What else you need? I'll be back soon
If you don't want to be alone
I won't smoke more of yours
I bought my own

Not like you do
But I know life’s hard
You light my smoke
I’ll deal the cards
If you nod off on me
I’ll turn on the T.V.
You ask what’s up in my world?
Um, not a lot, not much new
Still got that crush on that girl
What can you do
Grades are great, higher than Hers, I’m doing well
But you can tell how I really feel
Hey I’m fine, mind the game, it’s your deal

Beautiful petals, so fragile
Some are white, and some are red
Your relative peace, so labile
You paid your bill, have your med
Oozing sap, untainted, so white and pure
So soon turns black, have your cure, have your cure

I've seen the damage done
And the needle
The damage won
Your sun never even got to rise
You don't even try to hide it
Your brother should have supplied it.
Your own brother? how many times?
How many years?
Little girl
Overpowered
Have your white tears
From your flower

Mine

Are

Clear