Some nights when the clock strikes midnight. Some days in the early hours of dawn, when I am asleep and also awake, I feel an intense icy wind stir.
Like the inside of a vast cave that resides inside a forest, the wind fills my bare insides, stirs the sharp vacant space.
In these times, the hollowness is palpable; a forever stamp of what this body will never bear.
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.
Because there are so many articles and blogs and conversations that are so filled with how awful it is to be a teacher today and
Illustration by Allie Olivares Unbecoming by Emma Strauss For New Years I’ve decided – or it has been decided for me – that I will
Crunch crunch chomp chomp Buzz buzz Eagle Lake One two Three four Five Six Eagle Lake Climb climb Trip catch Buzz buzz EAGLE LAKE!