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. The gory details of the olden days rise to the top and I dive further into the rich broth, drowning in the worries of the unknown, feeling cut off from the air I desperately need to survive.
I like to stew somedays.
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.
little puffy clouds large puffy clouds pillows large and small atop fences, cars, and tiny tree branches white, kind, brief white cotton blankets carpets unroll
Yesterday a colleague questioned my informal style of communicating with the parents of my students. (I address parents with their first names in emails and
A silky-sweet, buttery-crisp scallop honors my tongue and I’m instantly nodding and embarrassingly “mmming” so the table next to me grows awkwardly silent. The plate
