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.
Sunday night I sat down for dinner with mom, Sam, and our significant others. Dinner at Minerva: Indian restaurant, Hyderbadi/Andhra style cuisine. Our mission: to
My silence seemed like abandonment, neglect, angry to you on those days when I asked for a reprieve, a moment to gather, mourn, feel. It
Arms outstretched, I twirl my skirt flies ballooning into perfect waves I tilt my chin towards the blue parachute above me Daffodils Buttercups Roses Petunias Me
Illustration by Allie Olivares The Boy Who Drew Animals by Celeste Bloom There was once a boy who drew animalsto prove he had a soul.