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.
Every time we went on the train in India, my mom went crazy for days preparing. She would pack anything and everything in sight, just
Note: I wrote this in late December right before I moved into my first house! I remember when I moved back to the DC area
It used be that you were my competition, you look for a new job, made me question my job You lose weight, I suddenly see