Each time it comes, I run, filled with curiosity and glee, pick up the strangely light box; hopes not quite shattered.
It is a box. It has arrived at my doorstep. It has to have something I will need.
And.
Each time. I open it, there lies space upon space of nothingness,
Just air.
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.
A summer thunderstorm drenched everyone on the street. A Johnny Cash song strummed from the tiny unseen speakers. A barely-there draft of wind greeted us
She scrunches up her face and bites her lip, as if the music is coming from deep inside her, Gallops in a figure eight around