The lid shudders as the soup bubbles underneath.
I watch it seep out in short bursts of tremors.
I should turn the heat down, but all I want to do is turn it up;
all the way up so that it explodes
on to the stove and ceiling, scorching the floor too.
A puréed mixture of good and evil; happy and sad.
Everyone looks at this as a mistake, but I am relieved–finally.
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.
“If you are in the green, that means you have more to give to this workout,” Jess said. I looked up at the giant screen.
Illustration by Deema Alawa Has Set Me Free by Susan Chung Un – prefix Become – verb ing – suffix When did you find out
Dawn arrives and your spirals imprint the sky; I coast toward the lemon pink rings that glide tenderly upward It would be easy to slide