It used to be maybe twenty,
A mad rush to get to the microwave and then, bathroom
Shuffle food in and maybe a brief second to breathe before you’re on again.
Now?
It’s a calm stroll to the bench; the one that has my name on it, under the watchful eyes of the sun’s rays.
I eat in serenity, breathe in serenity, swinging my legs.
That twenty a distant memory today, for today it’s forty, feels like sixty,
Feels like sixty.
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.
When I was young, my mom and I made it to the mall every Black Friday in search of deals. What we got instead, because
My very pregnant former belly dance teacher is front and center in her red costume shimmying fiercely with a wide-ass grin on her face and
I dig and dig and dig sweat dribbles down my forehead, shoulders heavy, mind focused I dig and dig and dig arms ache for me