Between the lines I inject color
Deep pigments of flagrant hues
Ink flies off the page–an eagle soaring in the open skies
And for a couple of hours there’s silence:
No dings of messages;
No sitcom laughter;
No chores yelling for attention;
No problem needing a solution
Just an even wrist shading in the colors of my bloodline.
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.
Hash. The immaculate brunch plate: potatoes, onions, seasonings to your liking, veggies, meat, and eggs. Anytime I see hash on a brunch menu, I order
In the corner of my mind she resides, large heavy cloak, dark, deep-set eyes—a constant reminder Her inky black clothes spill easily, if I let
A silky-sweet, buttery-crisp scallop honors my tongue and I’m instantly nodding and embarrassingly “mmming” so the table next to me grows awkwardly silent. The plate