A matrix of lines stare back at me–a list of endless possibilities for a day of discovery.
My feet my only transportation; oh glorious liberty: a new city within my grasp.
Should I start North, South, East, or West?
Water! It is my North star, forever tugging me towards the bay.
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
She sits atop her throne, spinning A double-edged string of sharp remarks, they flow in a train Compartment after compartments of you are not good
Each time the seasons change It rises above sea level Waiting to be released Waiting to flood and force A reboot Each time the seasons
It’s late Autumn. Sunday. Cheery yellow leaves cover the driveway like an aisle for a wedding; we walk towards the front door, hand in hand.