Sharp earthquakes tilt us together into a pile of debris and I should be able to see it as hope and possibility and evolution, but the metallic taste on my tongue lingers, reminding me of all the tiny, teeny pieces of bricks that I’ve already cemented together.
Whose bricks are these on the bridge I’ve been building for two decades? Did they come from a trendy hashtag or my heart?
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.
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.
Illustration by Allie Olivares Unbecoming by Emma Strauss For New Years I’ve decided – or it has been decided for me – that I will