Some nights when the clock strikes midnight. Some days in the early hours of dawn, when I am asleep and also awake, I feel an intense icy wind stir.
Like the inside of a vast cave that resides inside a forest, the wind fills my bare insides, stirs the sharp vacant space.
In these times, the hollowness is palpable; a forever stamp of what this body will never bear.
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 see you, fully design specific obstacles for you knowing fully, the path is never straight.
Humidity hung in the air, clogging the metro tunnels. I emerged from the dank underground to find sun sparkling through the shadows of trees as
Friday afternoon after an intense Pilates class, I walked over to Nickell’s & Scheffler for a quick snack. They had just finished preparing chili and
brick by brick it builds on its own each year completely independent of me and my life oblivious, I carry on working, grading, planning, teaching,