I like to stew on somedays—in the bubbling, gurgling thick starchy liquid of doubt. It’s warm and cozy: a pot of unyielding fears and questions. The gory details of the olden days rise to the top and I dive further into the rich broth, drowning in the worries of the unknown, feeling cut off from the air I desperately need to survive.
I like to stew somedays.
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.
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
I didn’t realize that I was lactose intolerant till my mid-twenties. I knew I didn’t like milk all my life, but thought is was a
Burning brightly through the window The sun’s ray cut into space Warming every inch Filling it to its brim Crackling kindly from below The fire
Inside a pool forms, slow, deep. Like walking through a juicer, the liquid is squeezed out Into a tall glass of sweet truth that no