After her parents drowned on the night they drove their car into a low water crossing during a hurricane-strength storm, none of them ever went back to Georgia.
“This is not your baby!” Sissy was yelling in a whisper, holding her face so close to Lulu’s, her hot breath seemed to make a fire crackle beneath the words.
From the middle of her bed, propped up on pillows and still under the mosquito net, Savannah could tell Harp was right about the morning. It was glorious.
“I am saying my experience is very limited,” Harp replied as his face broke into the radiant joy that Savannah believed was beamed to the universe every time he smiled.
Harp sat down on the sandy spot he’d found at the water's edge and put his head between his knees, suddenly aware of an overwhelming feeling of being completely hollowed out - like an empty seed pod, dried to a crisp and fluttering in the wind.
On February 21, 2009, I challenged myself to "journal" the remaining days of the year with six words posted here 313 times.
I am here to report the exercise was delightful. You must try it.
Not only did the Daily 6 call me to a moment each day to reflect upon the essence of my most present thoughts, the words also left a trail of stories from 2009 that I would certainly have otherwise forgotten.
I invite you to find a way to join in the fun.
Six word comments added here each day? Your own six word blog? A traditional pen and paper date?
Do it.
When the world turns for the 365th time in 2010, you'll have a brilliant trail of bread crumbs to lead you through your own forest of a year well/recklessly/dangerously/lovingly spent.
I have borrowed the concept from a series of publications delivered to the world by Smithmag.net. It's an exercise in thinking concisely, precisely, creatively about life, love, happiness, sadness, the world we live in...in six words.
Six of your very own words...
Some days, I can tell you from experience, it will be all that gets you to the next day.